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WHISPERED     MALICIOUS     TALES     INTO     HIS     EARS 


The  Gnomes  of  the 
Saline  Mountains 

A  FANTASTIC  NARRATIVE 


By 

ANNA  GOLDMARK  GROSS 

Author  of  "The  Whim  of  Fate,''  and  numerous 

short  stories  and  plays. 


THE   SHAKESPEARE  PRESS, 

114-116  East  28th  Street, 

New  York. 

1912. 


Copyright,  1912, 

by 
ANNA  G.  GROSS. 


JOS' 


I  dedicate  this  book  to  the 
blessed  memory  of  my 
father.  j*  j*  jt 


938548 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

by 
I.  T.  BALLIN. 

Whispered  malicious  tales  in 

his  ears  Frontispiece 

He  gazed  at  the  fair  form  in  bridal  attire 

lying  upon  the  floor  -  104 

Here,  Miss,  I  ain't  got  no  money  but  I'd 

like  to  give  you  them  shoes  -  117 

Confessing  all  to  the  wonder-working 

Saint        -        -        ....        -        .        167 


Near  Dresden  lies  a  garden, 
Therein  a  cherry  tree, 
Beneath  whose  fragrant  shadow, 
Came  happy  dreams  to  me. 

On  its  bark  my  love  for  her, 
In  ardent  words  I  traced; 
In  rapture,  then  in  sorrow, 
Trembling  with  nervous  haste. 

The  moon  so  bright  had  risen, 
Those  words  glared  forth  at  night. 
I  glanced  at  them  all  frightened, 
Then  screened  them  from  my  sight. 


On  zephyr's  wave  a  whisper  came, 
From  wicked  gnomes  to  me  addressed: 
"Come  here,  come  here,  thou  human  toy, 
And  find  with  us  thy  final  rest." 


The  Gnomes  of  the  Saline 
Mountains 

A  FANTASTIC  NARRATIVE 


Though  rather  early  in  the  morning,  the  well- 
known  esplanade  along  the  beautiful  Traunsee  at 
Gmunden,  surrounded  by  green-decked  Saline 
Mountains,  was  already  thronged  to  overflowing 
with  eager-looking  sightseers,  watching  excitedly 
the  completion  of  the  grandstands  which  were 
now  being  erected  for  the  great  event  of  the  day. 

Special  trains  arrived  hourly  from  Ischel,  Aus- 
see,  Hallstadt,  and  other  mountain  resorts  of 
prominence,  and  the  excitement  seemed  to  in 
crease  each  moment  more  and  more. 

Humdrum  life  was  thrown  aside  by  young  and 
old;  everyone  looked  on  expectantly,  reviewing 
the  grandstands,  the  tourists,  and  everything  new 
around  them. 


10  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 

Fair-browed  girls  robed  in  spotless  white  mus 
lin,  garlanded  with  flowers  and  bright  with  rosy 
badges  in  honor  of  the  occasion,  were  seen  here 
and  there,  while  their  eyes  sparkled  and  their  lips 
drank  from  the  cup  of  happiness,  enjoying  life 
and  the  blessing  of  being  young. 

The  constantly  increasing  throng  of  summer 
visitors  and  tourists  from  all  parts  of  the  globe, 
speaking  different  languages  and  wearing  out 
landish  clothes,  made  up  a  bewildering  picture, 
while  the  July  sun  beamed  down  upon  them,  and 
over  lake  and  green-decked  mountain-tops. 

The  much  talked  of  floral  regatta  of  1910  was 
not  to  take  place  until  five,  but  by  one  o'clock  the 
grandstands  near  the  water,  hardly  completed, 
began  to  fill  rapidly  with  the  elite  of  Viennese  so 
ciety.  These  floral  festivals,  which  had  been  so 
popular  in  previous  years,  were  to  be  surpassed 
in  artistic  splendor  and  brilliant  originality  by  to 
day's  display  of  picturesque  effects,  and  symbol 
ism  of  national  life. 

Members  of  the  highest  nobility  had  consent 
ed  to  take  leading  parts  in  the  regatta,  which  was 
under  the  protectorate  of  the  Archduke  Victor. 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  11 


Many  celebrities  of  the  musical  world,  living 
there  in  their  beautiful  cottages,  were  seen  quietly 
taking  their  seats.  The  great  bare  mountain 
"Traunstein"  seemed  to  smile  down  on  them 
from  his  aerial  height  in  friendly  approval;  they 
were  no  strangers  to  him,  these  music  giants,  but 
rather  belonged  to  his  enthusiastic  admirers. 

Every  spring  they  came  to  him,  seeking  relax 
ation  for  their  over-strained  nerves,  and  every 
fall,  when  his  bald  head  began  to  be  covered  with 
a  cap  of  snow,  they  went  home  full  of  elasticity 
and  creative  power,  often  bringing  along  concep 
tions  of  masterpieces  which  were  later  to  fill  the 
entire  musical  world  with  admiration.  No  won 
der  then,  that  the  bald-headed  old  fellow  up  there 
so  high  above  his  neighbors  looked  down  so  proud 
ly  upon  them. 

Loud  blasts  of  trumpets  in  the  distance  an 
nounced  to  the  patiently  awaiting  throng  the  ap 
proach  of  a  long  line  of  richly  decorated  boats. 
Archduke  Victor,  leading  the  procession,  sat  in 
the  stern  of  his  boat,  which  was  gorgeously  ar 
rayed  to  represent  a  bower  of  field  roses.  He  open 
ed  the  festival  by  throwing  red  carnations  into 


12  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


the  water  as  far  as  his  hand  could  reach.  Next 
came  the  customary  exchange  of  greetings  among 
the  Austrian  nobility,  whose  elaborately  decorat 
ed  boats  were  stationed  on  both  sides  of  the  lake. 
At  their  approach,  the  orchestra  on  the  esplanade 
burst  forth  with  the  National  anthem  of  Austria, 
and  the  spectators  applauded  frantically. 

Right  and  left,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see,  the 
shimmering  surface  of  the  lake,  with  its  little, 
gently  splashing  wavelets,  was  covered  with 
brightly  colored  crafts,  every  one  an  unique  mar 
vel  of  its  kind. 

There  came  splashing  along  a  huge  Easter 
egg,  made  up  of  lilies  of  the  valley;  here  a  pago 
da  of  large  sunflowers  called  forth  the  admiration 
of  the  delighted  sightseers. 

From  the  opposite  shore  there  came  floating  a 
half  opened  Nautilus,  out  of  which  a  green-clad 
naiad  cast  coquettishly  her  golden  net,  trying  to 
catch  some  inexperienced  young  fish  in  her  golden 
meshes.  Nearby  sailed  a  sleeping  beauty  (though 
rather  wide  awake)  embowered  enchantingly  in 
clusters  of  American  Beauties,  looking  in  all  di 
rections  for  her  enchanted  Prince  to  appear  and 
make  ardent  love  to  her. 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  13 


Suddenly  there  came,  as  if  by  magic,  a  gon 
dola  from  the  other  side  of  the  lake;  it  was  gor 
geously  decorated,  shining  brightly  in  the  brilliant 
afternoon  sun.  This  floating  work  of  art  was 
made  of  lotus  flowers,  over  which  a  canopy  of 
glittering,  diaphanous  material  was  hanging,  pre 
sumably  as  a  suitable  background  for  a  lady  now 
the  cynosure  of  all  eyes.  She  was  of  such  en 
trancing  beauty  that  all  who  beheld  her  sat  spell 
bound  and  actually  forgot  to  applaud,  according 
to  the  customary  greeting  to  newcomers,  scarcely 
knowing  which  to  admire  first;  the  magnificent 
craft,  so  artistically  constructed,  or  the  dazzling 
apparition  within. 

Amazed  and  speechless,  the  distinguished 
gathering  gazed  at  her.  "Who  is  she?"  they 
whispered  to  each  other.  Her  name  was  not  on 
the  list  of  nobilities.  Nobody  knew  anything 
about  her,  but  she  was  gorgeously  dressed,  her 
costume  representing  that  of  Cleopatra,  made  up 
of  pale  green  crepe  de  chine,  covered  with  little 
amorettes  of  silver  pearls,  which  hung  loosely  in 
artistic  folds  about  the  luxurious  outlines  of  her 
bewitching  form.  Long  flaxen  hair,  artistically 


14  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


arranged,  set  off  with  diamond  sparks,  fell  about 
her,  and  shone  like  molten  gold  in  the  setting  sun. 
It  was  supposed  to  be  a  real  reproduction,  accord 
ing  to  ancient  pictures,  of  the  flirtatious  Queen  of 
Egypt,  seen  in  the  art  galleries  of  Florence,  Genoa 
and  Eome.  Her  large  black  eyes  held  a  singular 
fascination  in  their  sparkling  depths,  which  if 
once  looked  into,  fastened  themselves  upon  the 
imagination  of  man  to  be  forgotten  no  more. 

At  the  sight  of  all  these  splendors  amid  such 
exclusive  surroundings,  she  looked  with  a  fright 
ened  stare  into  space,  as  if  she  were  a  newcomer, 
a  stranger  in  this  atmosphere  of  wealth  and  dis 
tinction.  Her  features  were  rigid  and  white,  and 
she  seemed  fascinated,  dumb  with  admiration  at 
the  sight  of  the  splendid  surroundings.  For  this 
reason,  she  had  failed  to  notice  the  sensation  her 
beauty  had  aroused  among  the  masculine  sight 
seers. 

A  slender  man,  with  deep  set  eyes,  and  thin 
and  bloodless  lips  tightly  pressed  together,  sat  in 
an  unpretentious  little  boat  a  short  distance  away, 
murmuring  grimly  unintelligible  words  to  him 
self.  She  caught  sight  of  him  and  sent  him  a 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  15 


friendly  glance  and  a  smile  similar  to  the  greet 
ing  of  well-known  friends.  He  did  not  lose  sight 
of  her  for  a  moment,  but  almost  devoured  her 
with  his  eyes. 

With  feverish  eagerness  he  followed  her  every 
movement,  knitting  his  brows  threateningly  when 
any  boat  of  the  Viennese  "Jeunesse  doree"  came 
with  admiring  curiosity  too  near  to  her's.  In  his 
jealous  rage  he  felt  like  driving  all  of  them  from 
the  spot. 

He  began  to  reproach  himself  for  having  yield 
ed  to  her  cajoling  entreaty  to  be  allowed  to  take 
part  in  the  festivity. 

11  Miserable  fops,"  he  murmured  contemptu 
ously,  as  he  contemplated  the  admiring  men  with 
a  scornful  sneer.  "I  loathe  the  sight  of  all  these 
nobodies,"  he  grumblingly  soliloquized. 

Many  of  them,  in  fact,  had  nothing  to  boast 
about.  Many  of  these  so-called  nobles  in  addition 
to  a  noble  name,  combined  magnificent  poverty 
and  an  abhorrence  for  honest  work;  they  acquired 
a  heap  of  debts  and  their  inherited  estates  were 
often  in  the  hands  of  unscrupulous  usurers,  or 
mortgaged  to  the  last  cent,  while  the  sneering 


16  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


one  had  money  in  such  abundance  that  he  could 
have  purchased  patents  of  nobility  for  an  entire 
regiment,  and  still  have  a  reserve  revenue  from 
his  unfathomable  gold  mine  in  South  Africa.  His 
finances  would  have  allowed  him  the  luxury  of 
such  a  woman — although  it  must  be  whispered  he 
had  a  wife  in  England,  divorced  some  people  as 
serted. 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  17 


II. 

It  was  seven  o  'clock ;  the  great  animated  festi 
val  drew  near  its  end.  At  a  given  signal  from  the 
master  of  ceremonies,  the  music  on  the  esplanade 
stopped;  a  hush  fell  on  the  distinguished  gather 
ing. 

Archduke  Victor,  in  his  own  exalted  person, 
was  to  award  the  stipulated  prizes  to  the  boats 
of  most  artistic  and  original  designs. 

The  fanfares  sounded  gayly  over  land  and  sea, 
and  all  the  boats  small  and  large  ranged  them 
selves  in  a  semi-circle  about  the  illustrious  judge. 
The  first  prize,  a  silver  statuette  of  the  Goddess 
Hebe,  was  awarded  to  the  fascinating  princess  of 
Egypt. 

With  a  flourish  of  trumpets,  and  amid  shouts 
of  applause  from  the  enthusiastic  throng,  all 
looked  around  for  the  boat  of  the  prize  winner. 
But  there  was  no  sign  of  it  anywhere,  nor  was  the 
single  boat  of  the  slender  Englishman  to  be  seen 
any  more. 


18  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


At  a  given  signal  from  Mr.  Ogden,  the  artisti 
cally  constructed  little  boat  had  quietly  turned 
about,  and  the  two,  availing  themselves  of  the 
general  excitement  over  the  awarding  of  prizes, 
had  quietly  slipped  away  behind  the  neighboring 
piers,  where  the  palatial  home  of  the  unfortunate 
Archduke  Johann  Salvatore  is  to  be  seen.  He  is 
better  known  to  the  outer  world  under  the  pseu 
donym  ''Johann  Orth." 

His  sorrowing  mother  is  still  seen  by  passers- 
by  sitting  near  the  window  with  expectant  eyes 
waiting  for  the  lost  son  to  return. 

The  brilliant  floral  festival  enacted  on  the  lake 
was  at  an  end.  On  the  esplanade  were  still  seen 
groups  of  excited  spectators  discussing  with  great 
animation  once  more,  the  singular  disappearance 
of  the  wonderful  little  boat  that  was  fortunate 
enough  to  win  the  first  prize  and  whose  occupants 
disappeared  without  claiming  that  distinction. 
Others  lost  no  time  in  entering  the  brightly  illum 
inated  cafes  in  the  vicinity  of  the  esplanade  to  re 
fresh  themselves  after  the  excitement  of  the  grand 
event. 

On  the  eastern  horizon  a  thin,  fleecy  scarf  of 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  19 


clouds  was  visible  and  the  silvery  moon  with  all 
her  sparkling  companions  had  just  come  out  to 
beam  upon  the  scene.  The  West  was  a  single 
shrine  of  beryl,  whereon  ruby  flakes  of  vapor 
seemed  to  float  through  the  universe. 

Meanwhile  the  much-admired  boat  was  silently 
gliding  over  the  surface  of  the  gently  splashing 
waves.  The  half  reclining  form  of  the  fascinat 
ing  woman  seemed  in  the  amber  moonlight  to  re 
semble  that  of  Aphrodite,  as  if  risen  from  the 
waves  and  in  a  wanton  mood,  anxious  to  make  a 
trial  performance  all  by  herself  of  her  incontesta 
ble  power  over  the  other  sex. 

"Am  I  really  so  fascinating?  Did  those  ad 
miring  glances  tell  the  tale  of  my  triumph?"  she 
murmured  with  a  happy  smile  to  herself,  looking 
askance  at  the  boat  alongside  her's,  where  her 
jealous  admirer  sat  with  gloomy  eyes,  consumed 
by  jealousy. 

Mr.  Ogden,  to  whom  she  owed  all  this  splen 
dor,  regarded  with  unconcealed  displeasure  the 
day's  proceedings.  He  reproached  himself  for 
having  yielded  to  her  entreaty.  She  had  begged 
and  coaxed  him  so  much,  until  he  gave  his  con- 


20  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


sent,  then  he  ordered  the  decoration  of  the  boat. 
Her  costume  was  especially  ordered  from  the  most 
expensive  tailor  according  to  ancient  pictures  of 
the  Egyptian  Queen.  Ogden  undoubtedly  wanted 
her  to  be  the  most  striking  figure  on  the  lake. 

And  now!  Was  he  really  jealous  because  she 
was  the  most  admired,  the  most  beautiful?  "Jeal 
ous!  Ho!  ho!" 

She  shrugged  her  white  shoulders  with  a  con 
temptuous  smile. 

Did  he  really  think  that  she  loved  him? 
"Phew!" 

She  had  only  accepted  his  ardent  devotion  to 
learn  what  riches  and  luxury  really  meant,  for 
which  she  had  an  uncontrollable  longing,  a  long 
ing  that  almost  devoured  her !  Night  and  day  she 
thought  of  it,  how  to  get  rich. 

The  aggressive  poverty  in  which  she  had  passed 
her  earlier  days,  was  too  hideous  to  dwell  upon ; 
she  could  not  think  of  it  without  a  shudder.  The 
idea  of  being  poor  again  took  her  breath  away. 
How  could  she  ever  have  consented  to  become  the 
wife  of  a  man  who  was  poor?  "Handsome  but 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  21 


poor !  "What  an  anomaly  I ' '  she  said  in  an  under 
tone,  smiling  sarcastically. 

With  bitter  envy  and  scorn  in  her  painfully 
contracted  heart,  she  saw  the  rich  but  most  ugly 
looking  women  rolling  by  in  their  elegant  automo 
biles  disdainfully  glancing  at  her  and  her  poor 
outfit.  Often  enough  when  she  was  working, — 
engaged  in  the  performance  of  her  household  du 
ties  in  the  two  small  dark  rooms  of  a  tenement 
house,  without  pure  air,  without  light  to  brighten 
her  beautiful  face,  she  cursed  everything.  This 
hovel  her  home!  And  she  had  the  priceless  gift 
of  beauty !  She  made  up  her  mind  not  to  stand  it 
any  longer. 

The  day  came  when  she  was  seized  by  such  a 
consuming  desire  to  go  in  pursuit  of  pleasure,  to 
wear  elegant,  stylish  clothes  and  feel  the  admir 
ing  glances  of  the  other  sex  resting  upon  her,  that 
meeting  Mr.  Ogden  by  accident  and  dazzled  by  his 
wealth,  captivated  by  his  costly  presents,  she  ac 
cepted  his  proposal  to  go  with  him  forgetting 
everything,  even  the  sacred  duty  of  a  mother. 


22  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


III. 


The  much-admired  little  boat  was  now  ap 
proaching  the  narrow  bay  which  is  only  two  min 
utes  distance  from  Gmunden.  There  stood  the 
spick  and  span  victoria  of  Mr.  Ogden;  the  two 
black  horses  attached  to  it  struck  out  sparks  of 
fire  with  their  impatient  hoofs.  The  tall  Eng 
lishman  who  had  distanced  her,  stood  there  wait 
ing.  The  moment  he  caught  sight  of  her  bewitch 
ing  face,  his  eyes  sparkled  and  smiling  sweetly 
at  her,  helped  her  tenderly  out  of  the  boat. 

The  sun  had  just  gone  down  behind  a  fleecy 
cloud  and  kindled  a  volcano,  from  whose  silver- 
rimmed  crater  fiery  rays  of  scarlet  shot  up  al 
most  to  the  clear  zenith.  She  looked  fatigued  and 
closed  her  eyes  for  a  moment.  Now  she  caught 
sight  of  him  and  smiled,  allowing  him  to  take  her 
away — 

Tenderly  kissing  her  hand,  he  led  her  to  the 
carriage,  lifted  her  carefully  in  and  wrapped  a 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  23 


costly  cloak,  which  was  laying  there,  around  the 
enchanting  form  he  so  adored. 

She  did  not  speak,  but  sat  by  his  side  in  si; 
lence.  He  gazed  at  her  several  times  and  then 
gave  the  order  to  start.  The  carriage  set  off 
at  a  rapid  gait. 

The  light  of  day  was  rapidly  failing.  Day  and 
night  seemed  to  join  hands  in  a  twilight  mystery; 
black  clouds  were  now  piling  up  threateningly  on 
the  western  horizon.  A  heavy  gust  scattered  the 
thick  aggressive  atmosphere.  Flying  leaves  were 
lifted  up  in  the  air  as  if  by  magic,  and  went 
through  the  wildest  dances  to  the  piping  and  howl 
ing  of  the  storm,  which  now  commenced  to  rage 
in  all  its  fury,  while  voices  of  sinister  shadows  in 
the  air,  seemed  to  hold  intercourse  with  others 
in  the  distance. 

In  these  high  mountainous  regions  a  few  mo 
ments  suffice  to  turn  a  smiling  landscape  into  a 
cheerless  dripping  desert.  Claps  of  thunder  and 
flashes  of  lightning  followed  each  other  at  brief 
intervals.  The  rain  now  fell  in  torrents  and  the 
howling  storm  whipped  the  green  lake  whose 
wavelets  had  been  so  gently  splashing  half  an 
hour  ago. 


24  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


IV. 


During  the  events  described  in  the  preceding 
chapter,  a  man  still  in  the  glow  of  youth  was 
walking  through  the  valley  surrounded  by  lofty 
saline  cliffs,  in  this  howling  storm,  while  clouds 
of  shrivelled  leaves  danced  above  his  head.  He  did 
not  mind  the  dreary  desolation  around  him. 

His  face,  naturally  strong  with  manly  beauty, 
was  now  pale  and  haggard,  showing  unmistakable 
traces  of  a  great  sorrow.  His  large  intelligent 
eyes  were  now  sunk  deep  in  their  sockets.  A  ner 
vous  restlessness  made  him  shiver,  and  his  pale 
cheeks  gathered  only  a  little  color  when  an  obsti 
nate  cough  threatened  to  rend  his  suffering 
breast  asunder. 

His  coat  betrayed  the  elegant  cut  of  the  fash 
ionable  tailor,  but  it  was  now  old  and  worn,  and 
hung  loosely  about  his  emaciated  form.  He  looked 
like  a  teacher  on  whom  fortune  had  persistently 
turned  her  back. 

He  carried  in  his  hands  a  thick  book,  carefully 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  25 


wrapped  up  in  a  handkerchief,  which  he  clasped 
tightly  almost  tenderly  to  his  breast,  as  if  afraid 
at  any  moment  it  might  escape  or  drop  out  of  his 
hands.  This  idea  made  him  tremble.  It  was  in 
deed  his  only  source  of  income ;  by  the  aid  of  this 
valuable  book  he  had  already  earned  many  a  gold 
piece  in  the  Tyrolian  and  Styrian  mountains. 

His  humorous  lectures  had  been  received  with 
great  approbation  in  different  hotels  frequented 
by  many  foreign  tourists.  And  still,  his  earn 
ings  were  not  sufficient  to  support  him  and  his 
motherless  child,  pretty  little  Marie,  whom  he  had 
left  in  the  meantime  with  a  family  of  friends  in 
Dresden.  Every  silver  groschen  he  had  earned 
was  for  the  support  of  his  child. 

He  had  come  all  the  way  from  Hallstadt,  and 
this  long  walk  had  exhausted  his  strength  consid 
erably;  and  his  heart  was  sick  and  heavy.  Now 
he  felt  a  frightful  nervousness,  fearing  not  to  be 
able  to  reach  in  time  the  hotel  where  he  was  an 
nounced  to  deliver  his  humerous  lecture. 

He  walked  as  quickly  as  he  could  to  the  far 
ther  end  of  the  valley,  where  he  expected  to  see 
a  clearing  in  the  forest,  and  an  open  road  to  the 


26  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


hotel.    But  on  all   sides  he  met  high,   unfamil 
iar  cliffs.    Apprehension  fell  over  him  like  an  icy 

rain.  lfjK^Nf(M! 

"Can  I  have  lost  my  way?"  he  murmured, 
breathing  heavily,  while  great  beads  of  perspira 
tion  broke  out  on  his  forehead. 

In  an  hour's  time  he  was  supposed  to  be  at  the 
Mountain  View  Hotel,  and  now  .  .  .  He  looked 
helplessly  around.  Darkness  began  to  fall,  con 
testing  every  inch  of  ground  with  retreating  day 
light.  His  teeth  were  chattering  with  a  cold  chill, 
when  he  set  out  to  find  another  opening. 

The  continuous  excitement  of  this  wandering 
from  one  hotel  to  another,  the  consuming  sorrow, 
the  bleeding  wound  in  his  heart,  had  gradually  un 
dermined  his  constitution,  originally  none  too 
strong,  and  now  this  wearing  cough,  the  insidious 
fever!  .  .  "How  upset  I  feel;  it's  the  peculiar 
atmosphere,"  he  said  to  himself.  At  the  same 
time  he  remembered  that  the  entertainment  he 
proposd  to  offer  this  evening,  was  not  sufficiently 
furnished  with  witty  epigrams  and  bon  mots.  So, 
bowing  and  smiling  to  an  imaginary  audience  of 
cosmopolitan  taste,  he  began  to  rehearse  his  lee- 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  27 


ture  as  he  walked  on,  sharpening  the  humour  and 
adding  some  popular  Austrian  witticisms  in 
vogue  as  trump  cards. 

Suddenly  he  looked  up  and  saw  a  dark  cloud 
threatening  down  upon  him.  Heavy  gusts  of 
wind  commenced  to  bend  the  tops  of  the  high,  in- 
penetrable  trees.  The  songs  of  the  mocking  birds 
rang  from  the  cedars  in  the  distance  in  his  ear 
and  startled  him. 

He  stopped  in  alarm  and  looked  distractedly 
around  him.  Where  was  he?  He  could  not  make 
out.  In  the  marshy  places  the  fireflies  were  seen, 
wandering  about  and  looking  in  the  distance  like 
malicious  eyes  of  wicked  sprites. 

There  was  no  longer  any  doubt,  he  had  taken 
an  entirely  wrong  direction. 

Trembling  with  excitement,  fearing  delay,  he 
rushed  back  to  look  for  the  right  path,  while  his 
hot  breath  grated  audibly  on  his  weak  lungs.  A 
fearful  storm  was  gathering,  whispering  and  sob 
bing  like  complaining,  frightened  witches  now 
whirling  the  leaves  into  the  air  vehemently  as  if 
driven  by  the  furies  of  Hades. 

A  cold  shudder  ran  through  his  fevered  frame. 


28  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


He  gazed  in  helpless  despair  up  and  down,  not 
knowing  where  to  turn,  while  the  rain  poured 
down  in  torrents,  soaking  him  from  head  to  foot, 
and  the  centuries  old  tree-tops  groaned  and  moan 
ed  like  lost  souls  in  Dante's  Inferno.  Now  every 
thing  began  to  swim  around  him.  Nature  was  in 
an  uproar  and  bluster.  Every  little  glowworm 
seemed  to  his  frightened  eyes  to  grow  to  gigantic 
proportions  dancing  wildly  about. 

Sharp  flashes  of  lightning  lit  up  the  Traun- 
stein  ever  and  anon  and  seemed  to  come  nearer 
and  nearer,  as  if  trying  to  march  straight  down 
upon  him.  He  wanted  to  retreat,  but  could  not 
move ;  there  was  a  dark  mist  before  his  eyes.  Ut 
tering  a  piercing  cry,  he  fell  to  the  ground  in  a 
heap  because  the  big  monster  kept  on  advancing. 

With  a  tremendous  crash,  the  great  mountain 
burst  apart  and  a  whole  troop  of  tiny,  little  moun 
tain  gnomes  came  out,  dancing  grotesquely  like 
sprites  of  another  world. 

They  were  garbed  in  white  vestments,  like 
fleecy  vapors,  with  brazen  girdles  which  seemed 
to  be  sunbeams,  and  a  cloudy  stuff  supposed  to  be 
mantles  hung  loosely  around  their  diminutive 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  29 


forms.  With  bare  feet  they  pattered  down  upon 
him.  As  soon  as  they  caught  sight  of  him  they 
commenced  to  giggle,  swarming  around  him  in 
great  merriment.  And  then  they  put  their  ludi 
crous  little  heads  together  and  pointed  at  him 
with  contempt,  whispering  tales  in  falsetto  tones 
to  each  other,  which  he  could  not  understand. 
But  he  saw  by  the  glare  of  their  twinkling  little 
eyes  that  they  meant  him,  that  they  touched  on 
something  in  his  past  life. 

By  and  by  they  became  bolder  and  touched  his 
wet  clothes ;  some  of  the  older  ones  bent  down  to 
him  and  whispered  malicious  tales  about  his  wife 
into  his  ears.  He  groaned  aloud.  "It  is  a  lie! 
I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it!"  he  screamed,  curs 
ing  the  whole  deceitful  band.  In  his  indignation 
he  tried  to  rise  several  times  in  order  to  drive 
them  away — down  into  the  foaming  stream,  or 
back  into  their  mountain  riff;  but  he  could  not 
move;  his  feet  seemed  to  be  fastened  to  the  very 
ground  as  if  paralyzed  or  chained  to  earth.  They 
whispered  once  more  the  name  of  his  wife  with 
scornful  laughter,  and  passed  on  over  hills  and 
valleys  dancing  merrily. 


30  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


Suddenly  a  bright  light  shone  about  him,  il 
luminating  the  marshy  waters;  invisible  choirs 
were  singing  sweetly,  as  if  angels  were  descend 
ing  from  heaven.  His  eyes  dilated  as  he  saw  a 
procession  of  tiny  elves  passing  him,  carrying 
little  lighted  tapers  in  their  diminutive  hands. 
In  their  midst  he  saw  his  dear  mother  stretching 
out  her  arms  longingly  towards  him. 

Tears  came  to  his  eyes.  The  dear  face!  He 
wanted  to  run  to  her,  embrace  her,  but  could  not 
stir.  A  cry  of  horror  broke  from  his  trembling 
lips  when  the  fair  Siren  so  fatal  to  his  life  stood 
before  him,  intervening  and  trying  to  ensnare 
him  again  with  the  fascination  of  her  glittering 
eyes,  her  bewitching  smile,  speaking  to  him  of 
love  and  devotion  which  he  believed  again. 

He  listened  to  her ;  and  a  ray  of  happiness  and 
delight  filled  his  lovesick  heart.  She  comes  back 
to  him !  She  loves  only  him !  And  unheeding  the 
beseeching  beckoning  of  his  anxious  mother, 
whose  tortured  heart  writhed  and  bled  for  her 
suffering  son,  he  hastened  on  with  the  enticing 
Siren, — where  to,  he  did  not  know. 

Suddenly  they  stood  before  a  deep  precipice; 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  31 

darkness  surrounded  them,  and  the  old  trees  com 
menced  to  sigh  and  moan  and  bend  down  upon 
them.  Six  shadowy  forms  with  blazing  torches 
appeared  upon  the  scene  carrying  a  coffin.  Just 
in  front  of  him  the  lid  opened  and  the  pale  waxen 
face  of  his  dead  mother  met  his  frightened  eyes. 
He  screamed  aloud  with  horror.  He  had  broken 
that  noble  heart,  he  had  killed  the  best  of  mothers, 
because  he  had  followed  this  evil  spirit  of  his  life. 
With  a  loud  cry  he  threw  himself  upon  the 
lifeless  form  and  wept,  while  the  fair  siren  by  his 
side  laughed  and  laughed.  Beside  himself  with 
indignation  he  panted,  trying  to  strike  her  and 
hurl  words  of  hatred  in  her  face;  but  his  hands 
fell  helpless  by  his  side;  they  had  no  power  to 
execute  his  will.  He  seemed  rooted  to  the  ground. 


32  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


V. 


"Get  up  from  this  wet  ground,  you  fellow! 
How  did  you  ever  come  here  in  this  beastly 
weather?"  He  heard  a  deep  sympathetic  voice 
by  his  side.  Awakened  from  his  swoon,  soon  he 
looked  amazed  around  him.  What  had  happen 
ed?  He  did  not  know  at  all.  His  limbs  were 
helpless  and  he  lay  on  the  ground  where  he  must 
have  fallen.  His  treasured  source  of  income;  his 
precious  book,  containing  all  his  humorous  lec 
tures,  lay  rain-soaked  near  his  side.  How  long 
he  had  been  lying  there  unconscious,  he  did  not 
know  himself.  A  slim  well-dressed  man  stood 
before  him,  doing  his  best  to  help  him  get  up 
and  trying  to  comfort  him  as  much  as  he  could, 
shaking  his  head  wonderingly,  and  inquiring  how 
he  ever  happened  to  be  lost  in  such  a  place. 

The  lecturer  looked  about  him  with  great 
relief.  He  did  not  see  the  gnomes  anywhere. 
So  it  was  not  true  what  they  told  him,  what  they 
sneered  at — 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  33 


His  heart  rejoiced.  It  was  only  a  hallucina 
tion,  nothing  else.  All  he  had  seen  and  heard 
must  have  been  a  stupid  fancy  of  his  tired  brain. 
The  best  proof  was,  that  he  found  himself  lying 
helplessly  on  the  ground,  just  awakening  from  a 
swoon. 

Yes,  the  condition  of  his  brain  was  at  fault; 
that  was  as  clear  as  daylight.  "Thank  God!"  he 
exclaimed,  while  a  feeling  of  unspeakable  joy 
surged  through  his  heart,  now  gladdened  with 
thankfulness. 

"I  came  near  believing  all  that  stupid  non 
sense  of  those  wicked  gnomes  about  my " 

"Hey!  listen  to  me,  poor  fellow!  What  in 
Heaven's  name,  are  you  doing  here  on  that  wet 
ground?" 

It  was  not  until  the  stranger  by  his  side  had 
repeated  his  question  that  he  could  pull  himself 
together  and  answer  in  a  stammering  voice,  while 
a  cold  shiver  shook  his  emaciated  frame. 

He  looked  at  the  stranger  with  dilated  eyes. 
"Beg  pardon  sir.  I — I  must  have  lost  my  way. 
I  was  to  give  a  humorous  lecture  at  a  neighboring 
hotel,  and — and  fell  down,"  he  said  helplessly, 


34  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


picking  up  his  rain-soaked  book,  which  he  had  dis 
covered  within  reach. 

"Why,  you  are  wet  through  and  through,  my 
man.  What  can  I  do  for  you!"  asked  the  strang 
er  with  deep  sympathy. 

A  strange  look  of  wonder  illuminated  the  face 
of  the  downf alien  man.  He  stammered:  "If 
you  would  have  the  great  kindness  to  help  bring 
me  to  the  Mountain  View  hotel.  You  see,  I  am 
expected  there.  I've  got  to  earn  some  money  to 
night  yet. ' '  He  paused  to  cough ;  his  voice  seemed 
sepulchral. 

"I  have  a  motherless  child  to  support."  His 
head  was  bent  to  hide  his  emotion.  My  girlie 
must  have  all  she  needs.  I — I  couldn't  stand  it  if 
they  were  to  let  her  go  hungry.  God!"  Again 
a  vehement  cough  shook  his  wasted  frame. 

"Well,  well,  this  turns  out  all  right.  I'll  bring 
you  there  as  we  are  staying  in  the  same  hotel." 

"He's  got  fever,  sir — better  let's  get  him  on 
the  box,"  he  heard  the  coachman  say  who  stood 
by  his  side  looking  with  obvious  pity  at  the  man 
before  him. 

A  few  paces  away,  a  closed  carriage  was  stand- 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  35 


ing  with  two  lighted  lanterns  in  front  of  it. 

The  storm  had  relented  for  a  while,  and  mys 
terious  silence  fell  upon  the  scene. 

"Ogden!"  now  called  out  an  excited  woman's 
voice  from  within  the  carriage. '  *  To  miss  the  table 
d '  hote  on  account  of  that  wretched  beggar.  Why 
it 's  just  unpardonable ! ' ' 

* '  That  voice !    .    .    .    God  have  mercy ! ' ' 

The  man  on  the  ground  stammered  as  if 
struck  by  lightning.  His  eyes  dilated,  starting 
out  of  their  sockets  and  staring  horrified  at  the 
carriage. 

''That  voice,"  he  repeated.  "Could  it  be  pos 
sible?  Could  she  be  there?  Am  I  still  under  the 
influence  of  that  horrible  hallucination?"  he 
moaned  piteously.  He  could  not  and  would  not  be 
lieve  a  word  of  all  they  told  him. 

Again  he  seemed  to  hear  the  revolting  chuckle 
of  the  insolent  gnomes,  from  the  Traunstein,  re 
peating  their  malignant  tales  of  the  outrageous 
conduct  of  his — 

"Up  with  you  quickly,  for  we'll  have  more 
rain  within  a  short  time ! ' '  said  Mr.  Ogden,  now  in 
a  sympathetic  voice,  and  at  the  same  time  heeding 


36  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


the  woman's  command  in  the  carriage,  which  he 
would  not  have  ignored  for  any  consideration. 

The  coachman  assisted  the  stranger  to  his  seat 
on  the  box,  and  then  Mr.  Ogden  entered  the  car 
riage,  closing  the  door  carefully. 

Then  the  splendid  team  of  horses  set  off  like 
the  wind.  "God  have  pity  on  me!  that  voice!" 

He  could  never  forget  the  voice  of  that  allur 
ing  siren  who  had  goaded  him  on,  until  he  saw 
nothing  but  her  seductive  face,  listened  to  nothing 
but  her  deceitful  declarations  of  love,  without 
thinking  of  his  mother's  grief  and  her  death! 

Could  it  be  possible?  She  here  in  that  closed 
carriage  with  another  man?  No,  no!  It  was 
another  hallucination  of  his  feverish  brain. 

How  could  she  ever  have  attained  such  wealth  ? 
"Nonsense!"  he  murmured  smilingly  to  himself, 
drawing  a  long  breath  of  relief.  Ah !  how  he  had 
adored  that  faithless  woman! 

The  smiling  expression  died  out  of  his  face, 
and  a  mournful  compassion  for  his  deserted  child 
stole  into  his  troubled  countenance.  Why  did  she 
bring  so  much  misery  into  his  life?  Every  fibre 
of  his  noble  heart  had  been  throbbing  with  uncon- 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  37 


trollable  love  for  her !    And  now the  light  of 

life,  the  hope  of  future  years,  was  blotted  out, 
clouds  of  despair  and  a  grim  night  of  an  unbroken 
desolation  fell  like  a  pall  on  his  heart  and  brain. 
Nothing  to  look  forward  to  but  misery! 


38  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


VI. 


He  had  wandered  about  like  a  soul  condemned 
and  lost  to  eternity.  But  the  one  hope  to  meet 
her  again  possessed  him,  kept  him  alive.  And 
then — she'll  come  back  to  him — he  was  convinced 
of  that;  to  his  lonely  little  Mary.  And  after  all 
she  might  be  touched  by  his  devoted  love  that 
knows  how  to  pardon  and  overlook  certain  occur 
rences  in  the  life  of  a  giddy-headed  woman ! 

Unfortunately  the  cold,  calculating  coquette 
had  never  felt  a  tinge  of  anything  like  love,  and 
had  only  an  observing  eye  for  the  monthly  allow 
ances  he  received  from  his  well-to-do  parents. 

He  had  come  to  Dresden  a  young,  inexperi 
enced  student  to  pursue  a  course  in  literature  and 
jurisprudence.  The  handsome,  dashing  woman, 
somewhere  in  the  twenties,  soon  allured  him  with 
her  well  tried  arts.  Within  a  short  time  he  was 
her  devoted  slave  and  did  not  see  nor  hear  any 
thing  else  but  her  alluring  voice,  and  after  six 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  39 


months'  acquaintance  he  led  her  to  the  altar  with 
out  the  knowledge  of  his  parents. 

When  they  found  it  out,  through  a  friend  liv 
ing  in  Dresden,  they  were  in  despair,  in  their 
helpless  anger.  His  mother  never  recovered 
from  the  rude  shock  her  ambition  had  received. 
She  did  not  know  the  woman,  but  when  she  heard 
that  she  belonged  to  a  different  faith,  she  was 
crushed,  although  the  noble  catholicity  of  spirit 
that  distinguished  her  character  did  not  allow  her 
to  show  it.  Her  proudest  hope  to  see  that  be 
loved  son  some  day  a  respected  citizen  and  lawyer 
in  that  little  provincial  town  where  his  cradle 
stood,  was  gone  forever! 

Years  of  wrestling  with  life's  sorrows  had  set 
upon  her  noble,  benignant  countenance,  almost  a 
seal  of  holiness,  and  shed  over  her  placid  features 
the  mild,  sweet  life  of  a  pure  heart.  Her  white 
hair,  the  snowy  mass  prematurely  white,  wonder 
fully  softened  the  outlines  of  her  face. 

Now  deep  lines  commenced  to  furrow  her 
sweet,  indulgent  features,  and  she  grieved  so  deep 
ly  over  the  disgrace  that  she  began  to  lose  her 
health.  Silently,  without  a  word  to  her  husband 


40  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


she  performed  her  household  duties,  until  one  day 
her  enfeebled  constitution  gave  way  and  she  died, 
praying  for  the  only  child  she  had  ever  had. 

Her  husband,  Mr.  Burge,  under  the  double 
stress  of  the  sorrow,  refused  to  hear  anything  of 
the  ungrateful  son,  for  whom  he  had  slaved  and 
worked  all  his  life,  and  whose  grievous  mistake  in 
marrying  an  adventuress,  had  cost  the  mother's 
life. 

He  had  a  large  estate  to  look  after,  but  he  was 
alone  now.  He  needed  the  son,  but  what  could  he 
do?  He  was  ashamed  of  the  daughter-in-law! 
"No,  not  a  cent  of  my  money  can  she  have,"  he 
murmured  constantly  to  himself  with  a  flushed 
face  and  dry  lips,  looking  at  his  imposing  estate, 
where  the  beautiful  Ehine  rushed  by  and  the  tum 
bled  down  castles  of  long-forgotten  races  were 
seen  in  the  distance. 

The  irate  father  dissolved  all  connection  with 
the  son  and  stopped  all  payments,  denying  him 
any  assistance  whatsoever  in  the  future. 

After  the  regular  allowance  from  home  had 
entirely  ceased,  it  was  necessary  for  the  young 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  41 


husband  to  go  and  seek  some  profitable  employ 
ment  to  support  his  expensive  wife. 

He  had  never  earned  a  cent,  and  racked  his 
brain  now  how  to  get  money.  The  tantalizing 
condition  pressed  upon  him  that  he  might  not  be 
able  to  support  his  family.  Finally,  he  got  a 
position  with  a  meagre  salary  in  a  newspaper 
office,  but  he  was  scarcely  able  to  provide  the 
barest  necessaries  of  life. 

He  commenced  to  write  short  stories.  Al 
though  he  had  no  ambition  to  climb  to  such  a  lofty 
niche  in  the  temple  of  fame,  he  thought  he  might 
at  least  earn  a  modest  income.  Short  stories  and 
humorous  lectures — that  must  make  a  hit.  Every 
body  said  that  he  had  a  humorous  vein.  Now  the 
time  had  come  to  show  his  mettle,  but  the  short 
stories  were  generally  returned.  The  irate 
father  had  ceased  to  send  money  and  no  other 
help  was  discoverable.  And  then — after  all  that 
— she,  his  loving  wife,  dropped  her  mask  and 
showed  herself  in  her  true  colors. 

"I  have  had  enough  of  this,"  she  said  with  a 
disgusted  shrug  of  her  white  shoulders  to  her 


42  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


horrified  husband.  "I  don't  intend  to  starve 
here." 

In  vain  he  begged  her  to  have  a  little  patience 
for  the  sake  of  their  child.  The  last  short  story 
must  turn  out  to  be  a  great  success ;  he  felt  it  and 
was  really  convinced  of  it. 

"  Convinced, "  she  sneered  contemptuously 
and  turned  away.  No  use  of  losing  any  breath 
about  it,  she  thought.  I  am  through  with  him 
anyway.  Oh!  How  she  longed  to  be  rich,  wear 
stylish  clothes  and  be  admired. 

The  beautiful  coquette  became  restless  in  her 
little  home ;  she  looked  about  sick  at  heart,  unable 
to  tolerate  it  any  longer,  only  wishing  to  get  the 
opportunity  to  leave  it  forever.  Her  eyes  were  full 
of  scorn  when  looking  at  her  husband,  who  could 
not  supply  her  with  all  that  she  longed  for  just 
now,  and  for  which  she  would  have  pledged  the 
salvation  of  her  very  soul.  She  commenced  to 
frequent  public  places  in  the  absence  of  her  hus 
band. 

How  she  loathed  poverty!  "  Any  thing  but 
that,"  she  murmured  to  herself,  her  face  white 
with  disgust  as  she  walked  on,  gazing  in  all  direc- 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  43 


tions  to  see  one  of  her  former  acquaintances,  with 
a  strange  unrest  in  her  large  eyes.  Her  oppor 
tunity  would  come;  she  was  sure  of  that,  and  it 
came  in  meeting  one  day  the  rich  Englishman 
who  was  introduced  to  her  by  one  of  her  former 
friends  and  boon  companions. 

Shortly  after  this  encounter,  she  received  a 
letter  from  the  Englishman  telling  her  of  the  deep 
and  lasting  impression  she  had  made  on  him  and 
how  he  longed  to  see  her  again.  Her  face  flushed 
with  pleasure  as  she  read  all  these,  and  then 
perused  an  invitation  to  take  an  automobile  ride 
through  the  beautiful  mountains. 

For  some  time  she  sat  dazzled,  and  then  she 
looked  at  the  poorly  furnished  rooms ;  at  her  own 
wretched  outfit,  and  her  eyes  flashed  indignantly. 

"I  am  through  with  all  this.  Here  is  the  op 
portunity  I  was  longing  for,"  she  said  with  a 
contemptuous  smile.  "I'll  show  him — the  young 
inexperienced  fool  I  have  married — that  beauty 
counts  for  a  whole  lot  and  .  .  .  boldness  even 
more. ' ' 

She  stopped  at  the  window  and  looked  down 
at  the  Englishman's  automobile  before  her  door. 


44  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


"The  opportunity  —  my  opportunity  has 
come."  These  words  rang  ceaselessly  in  her  ears 
and  filled  her  being  with  a  strange  endeavor  to 
avenge  herself  on  the  man  who  could  not  supply 
her  with  all  the  luxuries  she  craved  for,  and  ac 
cording  to  her  ethics,  was  entitled  to. 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  45 


VII. 

It  was  on  Christmas  eve,  her  husband  had 
come  home  with  a  radiant  face.  His  short  story 
had  been  accepted,  and  the  money  was  in  his 
pocket.  Now  he  could  buy  a  fitting  present  for 
his  wife.  Of  course  it  could  not  be  too  expensive, 
but  she  certainly  would  enjoy  it  all  the  same; 
he  was  sure  of  that,  feeling  that  the  opening  of  a 
successful  career  was  inaugurated. 

On  his  way  home  he  had  also  bought  a  little  fir 
tree  to  set  up  for  the  first  Christmas  celebration 
in  his  own  home.  The  recollections  of  similar 
holidays  in  the  house  of  his  parents  stirred  him 
to  the  depths.  How  his  heart  quivered  when  he 
thought  of  his  dear  mother  he  loved  so  dearly. 
If  she  only  were  alive  how  different  everything 
would  be!  He,  who  was  brought  up  in  luxury, 
mother's  pet,  and  now — 

With  deep  emotion  he  entered  the  house. 
With  a  brisk  step  he  opened  the  door,  looked 
around  and  found  it  empty,  the  wife  and  all  her 
belongings  gone! 


46  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


The  horror  of  that  night  was  something  he 
could  never  forget  as  long  as  he  lived.  Holding 
his  ten  months'  old  child  in  his  trembling  arms, 
he  wept  burning  tears  for  her,  the  mother  of  his 
child.  Could  it  be  possible?  A  mother  desert 
ing  her  child  on  this  holiest  of  evenings?  He 
could  not  believe  his  eyes,  but  all  she  possessed 
went  with  her.  No,  no,  she  was  giddy-headed, 
but  not  cruel.  Motherhood  must  assert  itself 
and  surely  would.  How  he  loved  her,  how  he 
longed  to  take  her  in  his  arms  and  feed  his  poor, 
famished  heart  with  a  touch  of  her  lips ! 

He  sat  there  in  the  dark  listening  and  waiting 
for  her  to  come  back,  to  see  the  presents  he  had 
bought  for  her,  and  the  money  he  wanted  to  give 
her.  But  one  hour  after  another  passed  and  no 
body  came.  In  the  streets  a  joyous  throng  of  merry 
makers  pushed  and  jostled  about  wishing  each 
other  a  merry  Christmas.  His  heart  was  shaken 
to  its  depths  by  maddening  grief;  by  bitter  dis 
appointment. 

The  room  was  icy  cold,  there  was  no  fire  in 
the  stove,  and  the  child  half  starved,  screamed 
weakly  in  his  arms.  In  wild  desperation  he 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  47 


trampled  on  the  little  Christmas  tree  he  had 
brought  along  to  celebrate  his  first  Christmas 
in  his  own  home!  He  could  see  nothing  but 
falsehood  and  treachery  in  this  world.  What 
meaning  was  there  for  him  in  this  life-redeeming 
symbol  I 

Sick  of  everything  he  longed  for  death  to 
come  and  take  him  and  his  little  child  away. 
Throughout  that  dreary  night  of  agony  he  lay 
in  bed  holding  the  child  in  his  arms,  pressing  his 
lips  against  her  tender  little  hands,  without 
being  able  to  close  an  eye. 

The  bell  in  the  neighboring  churches  rang  out 
in  the  ears  of  the  deserted  man,  sounding  dis 
mally  through  his  lonely  house.  But  they 
brought  back  pictures  to  his  mind  of  Ms  child 
hood's  happy  days,  when  he  went  to  church  on 
similar  Christmas  eves  with  his  parents.  One  tear 
after  another  stole  into  his  desperate  eyes. 

"God  have  mercy  on  me  and  my  child,"  he 
murmured  stammeringly.  "I  must,  I  will  live  for 
her  sake.  I  cannot  leave  her  altogether  an  or 
phan,  ' '  though  the  gaping  wound  in  his  own  heart 
kept  on  bleeding,  bleeding  incessantly. 


48  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


VIII. 

11  There!  Here  we  are  at  last,  no  weather  for 
a  dog  to  be  out,"  growled  the  angry  coachman 
sulkily,  jumping  down  from  the  box  and  opening 
the  carriage  door  with  a  respectful  bow,  hat  in 
hand. 

Mr.  Ogden  staggered  quickly  out  and  lifted 
tenderly  and  carefully  a  woman's  form  to  the  wet 
ground.  Young  Burge,  the  deserted  husband, 
had  just  come  down  with  the  help  of  the  coachman 
who  growled  something  he  could  not  understand. 

He  looked  at  the  woman  in  the  darkness  and 
a  mist  swam  before  his  eyes;  he  leaned  against 
the  coach  and  his  knees  shook  so  that  he  could 
not  make  a  single  step.  The  night  was  black  and 
the  wind  sobbed  down  the  street,  while  the  rain 
still  fell  in  torrents. 

He  could  not  see  clearly — but  that  voice — that 
voice!  God!  Could  they  have  been  right — these 
wicked,  malicious  gnomes?  Did  they  know  all 
about  her  and  now,  how?"  he  asked  himself  while 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  49 


his  hands  clutched  the  book  convulsively  in  his 
helpless  agony. 

He  thought  he  heard  them  again  whispering, 
with  a  derisive  chuckle,  the  whole  story  of  her 
downfall  into  his  terrified  ears. 

"How  could  she  ever  come  to  such  magnifi 
cent  clothes?"  he  thought.  "Nonsense!  It  is  sim 
ply  a  hallucination  of  a  morbid,  disordered  brain. 
I  am  sick  and  miserable  and  see  things  where 
there  is  nothing  to  see."  This  he  murmured 
half  aloud  to  himself,  gazing  at  the  retreating 
form  of  the  woman  incredulously.  He  could  not 
distinguish  her  features  and  he  made  up  his  mind 
forcibly,  in  order  to  quiet  down  his  excited  nerves, 
that  it  was  nothing  else  but  a  foolish  trick  of  his 
imagination,  and  the  fever  which  shook  him  now 
again  was  the  obvious  cause  of  it  all.  "Anyway, 
how  could  she  have  obtained  all  this  luxurious  out 
fit?  His  wife  wealthy?  Nonsense!" 

He  tried  to  laugh  cheerfully  about  this  fool 
ishness,  but  suddenly  he  felt  as  though  a  knife 
were  plunged  into  his  heart.  "The  gnomes!  the 
gnomes !  If  that  which  they  had  said  were  true ! ' ' 


50  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


He  moaned  to  himself,  leaning  against  the  wall 
in  a  faint  condition.  ' '  Oh,  anything  but  that . . . 
anything  but  .that!"  His  whole  frame  shook  as 
from  palsy.  That  voice  haunted  him.  He  knew 
he  had  to  go  and  look  at  her  in  order  to  convince 
himself,  otherwise  he  could  not  find  any  rest. 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  51 


IX. 


"Come,  come!  You  must  not  lose  your  cour 
age,  my  good  fellow,"  said  Mr.  Ogden  good- 
naturedly,  coming  out  of  the  house  at  the  same 
time.  "But  before  you  do  anything  else,  you 
should  go  inside  and  get  those  wet  clothes  off; 
yes,  that  you  must  do,  my  man,  you  look  pale 
enough  indeed,  and . . . .  " 

"The  deuce!  If  that  is  not  our  expected  en 
tertainer,  the  humorous  lecturer  from  Ishle!" 
cried  the  stout,  dignified  hotelier,  with  a  laugh  as 
he  caught  sight  of  the  dripping  form  of  the  poor, 
dazed  lecturer. 

"Lord,  what  a  state  he  is  in!  Why  he  isn't 
able  to  lecture!" 

"Never  mind,  a  hot  grog,  some  dry  clothes 
from  my  wardrobe,  and  the  rest  will  soon  be  man 
aged,"  said  Mr.  Ogden  good-naturedly  with  a 
sign  to  his  valet,  greatly  gratified  in  being  able  to 
help  the  poor,  miserable  looking  man  with  the  pal 
lor  of  death  on  his  emaciated  face. 


52  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


''And  as  for  your  entertainment  being  a  great 
success,  well- — leave  that  to  me,  my  dear  fellow 
and  don't  worry;  it  will  be  all  right,"  he  went  on, 
clapping  the  dazed  humorist  on  the  shoulder  with 
an  encouraging  smile. 

He  bowed,  without  being  able  to  utter  a  word 
of  thanks;  he  bit  his  trembling  lips  and  followed 
the  valet  with  stumbling,  shivering  feet. 

"Who  could  this  benevolent  stranger  be  I 
And  what  was  he  to  that  woman!  Was  he  mis 
taken  or  not?  If,  after  all  she  should  be  his — 
his—  "• 

A  hot  wave  flushed  his  face,  distorted  with 
shame  as  he  thought  of  the  possibility ;  his  sorely 
tried  heart  was  hammering  mightily  within  him. 

He  could  not  get  rid  of  this  thought.  "If  she 
should  really  be  the  mother  of  his  poor  child 
.  .  .  .  what,  in  the  name  of  Heaven,  was  she 
then  to  this  man?  God  have  mercy  on  me  and 
come  to  my  aid ! "  he  cried  aloud,  in  great  misery, 
his  teeth  once  more  chattering  audibly  in  a  fresh 
attack.  "No,  no!  I  can't  and  won't  believe  it! 
She  can't  be  so  shameless  as  to  disgrace  me  and 
her  innocent  child!" 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  53 


"Come,  come  quickly,  sir,"  urged  the  valet 
impatiently,  "I'll  help  you  as  much  as  I  can." 

After  he  had  provided  him  with  all  the  neces 
sary  clothes  from  the  elaborately  assorted  ward 
robe  of  the  rich  Englishman,  who  was  about  the 
same  size,  he  made  as  careful  a  toilet  as  possible, 
under  the  prevailing  circumstances  and  under  the 
careful  inspection  of  the  helpful  valet. 


54  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


X. 


The  supper  bell  now  rang  through  the  vast 
corridors  of  the  Mountain  View  Hotel,  crowded 
with  tourists  from  all  parts  of  the  continent. 
Ladies,  gorgeously  dressed,  commenced  to  take 
their  seats  at  the  supper  tables  in  the  dining  room, 
escorted  by  elegantly  garbed  gentlemen;  some  of 
them  in  full  evening  dress,  others  again  in  black 
cutaway.  The  clatter  of  knives  and  forks  had 
already  begun.  The  spacious  dining  room  was 
brightly  illuminated.  At  the  further  end  a  carpet- 
covered  platform  was  visible,  whose  edges  were 
a  bank  of  flowers.  Everything  was  tastefully  ar 
ranged.  A  pianist  was  already  hammering  away 
at  a  waltz  of  one  of  the  latest  operatic  successes, 
with  frightful  execution,  as  an  introduction  to  the 
interesting  program  of  the  evening,  anxiously 
awaited  by  the  patrons  of  the  house. 

The  clatter,  the  bustling  noise,  had  suddenly 
stopped  and  all  eyes  were  riveted  expectantly  on 
the  man  who  had  just  entered.  Our  humorist, 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  55 


suffering  in  mind  and  body  alike,  pale  and  hag 
gard,  with  restless  eyes,  made  his  appearance  in 
the  borrowed  clothes  which  hung  loosely  about 
his  emaciated  form,  tossing  back  his  long  locks 
with  his  right  hand,  while  holding  the  cherished 
book  tightly  in  the  other,  he  came  down  to  the 
very  edge  of  the  platform  and  smiled  and  bowed 
in  all  directions. 

He  looked  exhausted  and  weary,  as  he  was. 
But  the  room  was  crowded  and  he  had  to  go  on, 
whether  he  wanted  or  not,  so  he  commenced: 
" Ladies  and  gentlemen." 

He  got  no  further.  A  mist  swam  suddenly 
before  his  eyes.  A  shiver  shook  his  emaciated 
frame,  his  face  became  flushed  and  bloated  and 
he  stared  and  stared. 

A  side  door  had  been  opened  a  few  minutes 
before  and  Mr.  Ogden  entered  with  the  much  ad 
mired  Cleopatra  on  his  arm. 

They  passed  through  the  crowded  dining  room, 
close  to  the  speaker's  platform.  She  had  changed 
her  dazzling  costume  for  a  simpler,  but  an  ex 
tremely  stylish  dress  of  blue  silk.  She  still  wore 
some  of  the  lilies  in  the  marvelous  golden  hair, 


56 


which  was  now  fastened  with  a  gold  comb  into  a 
plain  Greek  knot.  She  was  all  aglow  with  excite 
ment.  The  triumph  of  the  afternoon  was  still 
lingering  on  her  handsome  face.  She  felt  like 
shouting  it  out  to  everybody.  Such  conquest  does 
not  come  often  to  a  woman  in  the  ordinary  walks 
of  life. 

She  walked  proudly,  with  a  queenly  step  to  her 
seat,  nodding  to  some  casual  acquaintances  with 
a  charming  smile.  And  then  she  took  her  seat 
and  turned  a  glance  of  curiosity  upon  the  famished 
face  of  the  entertainer.  Their  eyes  met — and  for 
a  few  seconds  sank  into  each  others'  like  sharp 
daggers.  A  red  tinge  covered  her  startled  face, 
then  she  turned  away,  whiter  than  the  lilies  on  her 
breast.  She  trembled  visibly  and  looked  fright 
ened,  casting  down  her  eyes. 

Mr.  Ogden  did  not  seem  to  have  noticed  any 
change  in  her  appearance  and  gazed  with  a  shock 
ed  countenance  and  great  pity  at  the  reduced  ex 
terior  of  the  poor  humorist.  Suddenly  a  great 
excitement  was  noticeable  among  all  the  guests 
sitting  around  the  small  tables.  Several  gentle 
men  had  left  their  seats,  rushed  towards  the  place 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  57 


where  the  poor  entertainer  had  collapsed  after  rec 
ognizing  his  faithless  wife  garbed  in  that  splen 
dor,  so  shamefully  acquired,  of  which  the  wicked 
gnomes  were  whispering  so  constantly  into  his 
ears. 

He  still  believed  in  her  then;  but  now — the 
dark,  threatening  expression  in  his  livid  face  was 
frightful  to  behold.  He  murmured  something 
about  the  gnomes  that  nobody  could  understand, 
staring  with  hatred  in  his  dilated  eyes  in  the  direc 
tion  where  she  sat — she,  the  mother  of  his  inno 
cent  child,  now  disgraced  forever! 

"God!  What  have  I  done  to  deserve  such  a 
punishment?"  he  murmured  once  more,  pressing 
his  bloodless  lips  tightly  together  as  a  cold  per 
spiration  broke  out  on  his  deathlike  face. 

A  vision  of  his  mother's  warning  and  sorrows 
was  presented  to  his  benighted  intelligence  and 
made  him  cry  with  terror  and  shame.  The  con 
flicting  emotions  were  too  much  for  the  sadly  un 
dermined  constitution. 

"The  wicked  gnomes!"  he  whispered  with 
audible  scorn  and  contempt  in  his  blazing  eyes,  as 
if  sudden  madness  had  seized  on  him,  and  then 


58  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


tried  to  curse  her,  but  not  another  word  escaped 
his  tightly  closed  lips,  though  the  blood  began  to 
gush  from  them. 

The  truth,  so  cruelly  thrust  upon  him,  ended 
his  life's  drama;  his  eyes  closed,  he  fell  in  a  heap 
to  the  floor. 

The  pitying  guests  stood  helplessly  around 
him  and  did  not  know  what  to  do.  Mr.  Ogden  was 
the  first  one  who  had  presence  of  mind  to  send  to 
the  nearest  village  in  search  of  a  doctor. 

The  beautiful  Cleopatra  sat  there  as  pale  as 
a  ghost  and  was  afraid  to  go  near  the  prostrate 
form  of  her  unhappy  husband,  fearing  that  some 
one  might  lift  the  veil  and  show  the  audience  the 
ugliness  of  her  real  self.  A  feeling  of  restless 
ness  rushed  upon  her  as  if  the  shameful  story 
were  being  written  on  her  flushed  face.  She  could 
not  endure  it  any  longer  and  left  the  dining  room. 

Mr.  Ogden  did  not  notice  her  departure,  and 
busied  himself  around  the  dying  man,  asking  what 
he  could  do  for  him.  The  poor  man  pointed  to  a 
letter  in  his  side  pocket  where  the  addresses  of 
his  friends  in  Dresden  were  written  down. 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  59 


'  *  The  gnomes !  .  .  .  the  gnomes ! "  he  stam 
mered  once  more  as  the  shadow  of  death  began  to 
close  in  upon  him.  The  blood  streamed  out  inces 
santly,  and  before  the  aid  of  a  doctor  could  be 
secured,  he  was  a  corpse. 


60  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


XL 


Mr.  Ogden,  deeply  moved,  went  to  his  rooms. 

She,  the  cause  of  it  all,  sat  at  the  window  with 
a  book  in  her  hands  without  reading  it.  There 
was  a  look  in  the  woman's  face  that  amazed  him, 
a  hard,  cold  look,  that  he  had  never  seen  there 
before  while  the  sunbeams  fell  on  her  bewitching 
features  and  on  the  green  leaves  still  in  her  hair. 

"I  want  to  leave  the  place  at  once,"  she  said 
without  looking  at  him. 

"That  poor  man's  face  seems  to  haunt  you, 
dear  tender-hearted  girlie,"  he  replied  with  an 
outburst  of  tenderness,  taking  her  in  his  arms  and 
kissing  the  handsome  face  he  loved  so  dearly. 

It  was  a  fortunate  thing  that  he  was  blissfully 
ignorant  of  her  relation  to  the  dead  man. 

Gathering  up  courage — seeing  that  no  suspic 
ion  had  entered  his  mind — she  raised  her  beauti 
ful  eyes  to  his  languidly. 

1  'Yes,  you  are  right,  dear,  I  cannot  stand  such 
horrible  things  ,  ,  .  it  shocks  me, ' '  she  an- 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  61 


swered  with  her  accustomed  dissimulation  in  tone 
and  action. 

Although  she  was  a  great  adept  in  the  art  of 
hypocrisy  and  dissimulation,  she  could  not  alto 
gether  hide  the  uneasiness  which  had  taken  pos 
session  of  her.  A  strange  expression  came  into 
her  eyes,  an  expression  he  had  never  seen  there. 
He  looked  at  her  and  was  puzzled.  What  was  it? 
What  brought  the  change  about?  He  could  not 
tell. 

She  turned  suddenly  and  looked  out  of  the 
window  with  a  stony  face,  in  order  to  hide,  to  sub 
due, — what?  Did  she  conjure  up  a  sinful  vision 
of  her  own  life?  No,  she  would  not  give  in,  but 
she  was  startled  to  perceive  something  within  her 
she  did  not  reckon  with:  a  voice  wanted  to  be 
heard,  no  matter  how  hard  she  tried  to  subdue  it. 
It  was  the  voice  of  motherhood — that  feeling 
seemed  to  be  not  quite  dead  in  the  heart  of  the 
shameless  woman.  It  was  Nature's  revenge! 
She  had  to  listen  to  the  voice  of  Nature,  or  was  it 
conscience,  slowly  awakening  to  life? 

Ah !  Who  would  or  could  fathom  the  heart  of 
an  unscrupulous  coquette? 


62  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


"Had  he  any  family?"  she  asked,  indifferent 
ly,  avoiding  his  inquisitive  gaze. 

"Yes,  I  think  he  has  a  child,  here  is  the  ad 
dress,  ' '  he  replied.  ' '  I  think  it  must  be  with  some 
one  he  knew,  poor  unfortunate  man.  And  he  gave 
me  this  in  order  to  look  up  his  orphan  child." 
A  mournful  compassion  soon  stole  into  his  eyes. 

< '  He  could  not  speak  any  more,  but  the  pitiful 
glance  of  the  dying  man's  face  told  me  as  much, 
and  I  am  going  to  Dresden  and  see  whether  I  can 
do  anything  for  his  child,"  he  added,  looking  deep 
ly  moved  out  of  the  window.  She  gazed  at  him 
with  puzzled  eyes.  "God!  if  he  had  an  inkling 
whose  child  that  is!"  she  thought,  remorsefully 
recoiling  a  step  with  down-cast  eyes  and  tightened 
lips. 

Finally  summoning  up  courage  enough,  she 
said,  hesitatingly,  as  if  fearing  any  comment: 

"Yes,  .  .  .  let  us  stop  there  on  our  way 
to  Switzerland." 

He  wanted  to  stay  until  the  funeral  of  the  poor 
lecturer  was  over,  but  she  would  not  hear  of  it. 
She  looked  at  him  with  frightened  eyes  when  he 
made  the  suggestion. 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  63 


"I  cannot  stand  such  scenes,"  she  replied  with 
quivering  lips. 

"Well,  well!  Then  we'll  go,  my  sensitive  little 
girlie.  That  accident  seemed  to  have  upset  your 
nervous  system,"  he  said  with  a  smile,  kissing  her 
tenderly  and  gazing  fondly  at  her  troubled  face. 

On  the  following  morning  they  took  their  de 
parture  for  Dresden,  leaving  some  money  for  the 
funeral  expenses  in  the  hands  of  the  hotel  keeper. 

Instinctively  he  felt  like  doing  something  for 
the  man  he  had  robbed  of  his  happiness  without 
knowing  it. 

But  the  unscrupulous  coquette  loved  nobody 
but  herself,  knew  it,  felt  it,  though  without  any 
remorse,  that  she  had  betrayed  his  deep  devotion 
and  undying  love  so  shamefully,  fearing,  in  her 
deceitfulness,  only  one  thing — detection. 

The  following  day  a  simple  hearse,  containing 
the  corpse  of  the  poor  humorist  whose  life  ended 
so  tragically,  went  up  a  lonely  hill  where  the 
grave  diggers  had  just  finished  their  gloomy  work. 
The  coffin  was  lowered  and  the  grave  covered  with 
mother  earth.  No  mourners  stood  around  shed 
ding  tears. 


64  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


The  song  of  a  mocking-bird  rang  from  the 
downy  cradle  of  myrtle  blossoms — as  a  funeral 
dirge — and  a  whip-poor-will  answered  from  a 
cedar  in  the  neighboring  woods. 

When  the  night  train  going  to  Dresden,  rushed 
by,  the  little  white  cross  indicating  his  resting 
place,  looked  like  a  bleached  hand  of  a  skeleton 
shining  out  with  a  ghostly  radiance  across  the 
silent,  gloomy  plain. 

Through  the  fleecy  vapors  floating  around  the 
lonely  hill  one  with  clairvoyant  eye  may  see  at 
midnights  the  vacillating  horde  of  the  tiny  gnomes 
from  the  Traunstein  with  downcast  torches  re 
peating  whisperingly  the  sad  tale,  and  pointing 
at  the  grave,  in  which  the  body  of  the  dead  humor 
ist,  betrayed  of  his  life's  happiness,  crumbles  to 
dust. 


THE  ARTIST 


THE   ARTIST 


I. 


The  eye  of  the  attentive  observer  who  wan 
ders  through  Fifth  Avenue,  and  the  streets  which 
run  into  it  from  right  and  left,  is  especially  at 
tracted  by  the  houses,  built  here  in  the  Colonial, 
there  in  the  Renaissance  style.  Some  of  these  im 
posing  edifices  (often  the  only  reminder  of  long- 
vanished  fortunes),  with  their  rich  facades,  afford 
a  striking  criterion  of  the  tastes  of  their  builders 
and  of  their  former  inhabitants 

In  one  of  these  houses,  rearing  their  proud 
height  to  the  sky,  a  small  lap-dog,  bedecked  with 
silken  ribbons,  sat  in  a  parlor  window.  He  stretch 
ed  his  snowy  paws  with  great  satisfaction  on  the 
cushioned  window-seat,  warming  himself  in  the 
April  sun.  The  luxurious  room  behind  him  was 
quite  empty,  and  the  enforced  solitude  was  not 
at  all  to  the  taste  of  the  spoiled  pet.  It  was  prob 
ably  for  this  reason  that  he  did  not  find  it  worth 
his  while  to  bark  in  a  superior  manner  at  the 


THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


pedestrians  who  appeared  on  the  street,  but  a 
look  of  silent  contempt  told  very  plainly  that  he 
had  made  up  his  mind  to  consider  as  extremely 
unpleasing  the  movements  of  a  limping  street- 
cleaner  who  was  at  the  moment  just  in  front  of  the 
house. 

In  fact,  the  lame  man  did  not  look  as  if  he 
could  pretend  being  favored  with  a  condescend 
ing  glance  by  a  lap-dog  living  amidst  such  sump 
tuous  surroundings. 

He  looked,  too,  as  if  he  had  had  no  great  prac 
tice  at  his  wretched  calling — as  if  he  were  a  novice 
at  it.  Although  his  sickly,  sunken  features  were 
surrounded  by  an  unkempt  grey  beard,  and  his 
clothing  hung  loosely  about  his  wasted  form,  he 
somehow  gave  the  impression  of  being  an  intelli 
gent  man  of  some  education,  upon  whom  .un 
deserved  misfortune  pressed  heavily. 

The  well-fed  pet  in  the  parlor  window,  how 
ever,  had  no  conception  of  undeserved  misery,  and 
was  about  casting  to  the  winds  the  carefully  drilled 
manners  of  an  educated  dog  when,  fortunately, 
a  well-appointed  carriage  drew  up  just  as  the 
lame  man  was  preparing  to  go  on  his  way. 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  69 


A  delicate-looking  lady  with  a  kindly  face 
alighted  from  the  carriage,  and  nodded  smilingly 
to  the  little  dog.  The  lame  street-cleaner  had  no 
sooner  glanced  at  the  benevolent  face  of  the  rich 
ly-dressed  woman  than  his  emaciated  form  began 
to  tremble.  His  face,  so  pale  before,  became  red, 
as  with  humiliation,  and  in  a  state  of  marked  agi 
tation  he  was  on  the  point  of  dropping  his  broom 
and  stealing  quietly  away. 

The  lady,  Mrs.  Denison,  who  had  just  come 
from  a  charitable  gathering,  and  was  still  under 
the  influence  of  her  charitable  mood,  felt  hurriedly 
in  her  purse  for  a  silver-piece,  which  she  instruct 
ed  her  servant  to  give  the  lame  man  as  she  ascend 
ed  the  broad  steps  and  disappeared  into  the  house. 

"I  am  no  beggar!"  stammered  the  street- 
cleaner  in  broken  English,  waving  off  the  proffer 
ed  alms  with  a  trembling  hand. 

Within  the  mansion  Mr.  Denison,  in  a  faultless 
evening  costume,  turned  the  diamond  sleeve-links 
in  the  cuffs  he  was  adjusting  as  he  awaited  his 
wife. 

Mrs.  Denison  laid  aside  her  hat  and  cloak 
and  hastened  up-stairs  to  greet  him,  beginning  at 


70  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


once  to  give  him  a  rather  feverish  account  of  the 
doings  of  the  association  of  which  she  was  presi 
dent. 

Presently  another  turn  was  given  to  the  con 
versation  by  the  entrance  of  a  tall  young  man  with 
light  blue  eyes  and  a  rather  inexpressive  face. 

"I  am  done  with  racing  for  the  present!"  he 
cried  eagerly,  holding  out  his  hand. 

' '  Thank  heaven ! ' '  answered  Mrs.  Denison,  fer 
vently. 

"Eh,  for  once,  George,"  said  Mr.  Denison 
thoughtfully. 

"And  do  you  know  why?  My  favorite  won 
first  place — only  think  how  lucky!"  The  young 
man's  excitement  was  perceptible  in  his  panting 
breath. 

"And  how  delighted  Lucy  will  be!  Here  she 
comes  now,"  said  Mrs.  Denison,  turning  to  kiss 
the  white  forehead  of  her  daughter  as  she  entered 
the  room. 

Lucy,  a  pale,  thoughtful  girl,  with  large,  medi 
tative  eyes  shaded  by  gold-rimmed  glasses,  held 
out  her  finely-shaped  hand  to  George  Elmore  with 
a  forced  smile.  There  was,  indeed,  very  little  of 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  71 


the  delight  of  which  her  mother  had  spoken  to  be 
seen  in  her  face,  although  the  young  man  scarcely 
seemed  to  notice  its  absence.  Various  sports  oc 
cupied  him  to  such  an  extent  that  he  never  had 
time  to  make  a  study  of  the  girl  to  whom  he  was 
engaged.  In  addition  to  his  penchant  for  amuse 
ments  of  the  most  superficial  kind,  the  gift  of 
observation  was  entirely  lacking  in  his  inflated 
brain.  It  was  generally  supposed  that  he  was 
very  much  in  love  with  her,  but  it  was  a  question 
whether  his  affection  for  his  riding-horse  was  not 
of  a  similar  nature. 

Any  one  who  did  observe  the  pale  face  of  the 
young  girl  more  closely,  however,  could  not  have 
failed  to  notice  the  light  quivering  of  her  finely- 
chiselled  nostrils,  the  nervous  motion  of  her  red 
lips. 

In  spite  of  the  assumed  appearance  of  calm, 
which  proved  the  power  of  her  will,  it  was  possi 
ble  to  perceive  the  existence  within  her  of  some 
deep  emotion. 

She  was  standing  by  the  window,  the  involun 
tary  witness  of  the  alms  giving  when  it  -had  occur 
red.  The  lame  man  in  the  street  was  no  stranger 


72  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


to  her;  she  knew  his  domestic  circumstances  only 
too  well,  and  during  his  stay  in  the  hospital 
had  helped  to  support  his  family  without  confid 
ing  the  circumstance  to  her  parents.  Whether 
she  had  omitted  to  mention  it  for  fear  of  making 
herself  ridiculous,  or  from  some  deeper  motive, 
perhaps  she,  herself,  could  not  at  the  present  mo 
ment  have  determined. 

Lucy  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief  when  the  dinner 
was  announced,  and  her  fiance  went  away  to  carry 
his  pleasant  news  to  other  friends  and  acquaint 
ances. 

Meanwhile  the  poor  cripple  hobbled  off  to  his 
miserable  dwelling.  With  failing  breath  he 
dragged  himself  over  the  great  distance  which 
lay  between  him  and  the  lower  part  of  the  city, 
without  once  raising  his  eyes  from  the  pavement, 
suffering  and  devastating  mental  torture  showing 
in  the  feverish  glow  of  his  sunken  eyes. 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  73 


II. 


Martin,  the  lame  man,  had  been  brought  from 
Lyons  by  Mr.  Denis  on,  the  silk  manufacturer,  ap 
parently  under  the  most  favorable  conditions.  In 
the  silk  factory  in  New  Jersey  he  had  proven  him 
self  a  most  skillful  dyer.  The  Denison  wares  came 
to  be  noted  for  their  likeness  to  the  Lyonese 
goods,  and  in  a  short  time,  through  their  similari 
ty  to  the  imported  ones,  surpassed  all  that  had 
hitherto  been  made  on  this  side  of  the  ocean.  For 
this  reason  the  goddess,  Fortune,  added  continu 
ally  to  the  Denison  stock  of  worldly  treasures. 

But  the  continued  pressure  of  the  long  work 
days  began  to  call  forth  loud  remonstrances  from 
the  workmen  in  the  Denison  factory.  Martin, 
generally  looked  upon  as  being  responsible  for  the 
improvement  in  the  product,  was,  consequently, 
hated  as  being  the  indirect  cause  of  that  pressure. 

"I'll  be  damned  if  I  work  a  day  longer  for 
such  beggarly  wages!"  cried  a  red-headed  Irish- 


74  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


man  one  day,  bringing  his  fist  down  on  the  dye- 
tub  with  an  angry  look. 

"I  can't  blame  him;  he's  in  the  right  of  it!" 
answered  a  second  workman. 

"A  twelve-hour  day,  and  such  hard  work  at 
that!"  cried  a  third  one,  leaving  his  work-bench. 

" Right  you  are!"  exclaimed  all  the  others, 
rolling  up  their  sleeves  aggressively. 

"If  the  boss  doesn't  give  us  an  eight-hour  day 
and  higher  wages,  we  quit  tomorrow,  eh,  boys?" 
cried  the  angry  Irishman,  his  nose  turning  from 
red  to  purple  in  his  excitement. 

Martin  had  been  endeavoring,  with  ever-in 
creasing  earnestness,  to  calm  the  excited  minds 
of  the  workmen,  but  all  that  he  had  been  able  to 
say  to  this  end  had  been  laughed  to  scorn.  The 
next  morning  he  was  the  only  one  who  appeared 
at  the  factory. 

At  ten  o'clock  came  a  deputation  of  the  em 
ployees  to  the  office  of  the  manufacturer.  Mr. 
Denison  was  perfectly  willing  to  agree  to  a  raise 
in  wages,  but  he  would  hear  nothing  of  an  eight- 
hour  workday,  even  at  the  risk  of  having  to  stop 
work  for  an  indefinite  period.  Orders  were  com- 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  75 


ing  in  day  by  day.  The  busy  season  had  just 
opened  and  the  shutting  down  of  the  works  would 
have  meant  a  considerable  loss  to  the  manufac 
turer. 

Accordingly,  Martin  received  orders  to  engage 
new  workmen  at  once  and  set  them  going  at  their 
different  tasks.  The  strikers  no  sooner  became 
aware  of  this  than  they  began  to  cast  angry 
glances  at  Martin. 

1 '  Our  places  to  be  taken  by  others  1 ' '  cried  the 
red-headed  Irishman  to  Martin,  in  a  voice  choked 
with  rage,  as  the  latter,  weary  and  worn,  prepared 
to  take  his  way  homeward. 

' '  The  dog  of  a  foreigner  is  to  blame  for  it  all ! " 
said  another  with  threatening  gestures. 

This  was  the  beginning.  The  whole  of  the 
brutal  crew  fell  upon  Martin,  and  soon  left  him 
lying  senseless  on  the  ground.  In  this  state  he 
was  carried  home.  His  wife,  an  intelligent  woman, 
the  daughter  of  a  doctor  in  Basle,  and  his  four 
children,  wept  loudly,  as  the  beloved  father  was 
carried  unconscious  into  the  house.  The  help  of  a 
physician  was  soon  at  hand  and  after  a  thorough 


76  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


examination  a  fracture  was  discovered  in  the  up 
per  part  of  the  right  thigh. 

The  poor  wife  tended  her  unfortunate  husband 
with  the  entire  self-sacrifice  of  a  true  woman, 
keeping  up  the  house  as  long  as  possible  with 
what  little  money  she  could  painfully  scrape  to 
gether. 

The  eldest  son,  a  youth  of  twenty-four,  who, 
having  regard  to  his  manifest  talent,  had  educated 
himself  to  be  a  painter,  was  unfortunately  unable 
to  find  employment  just  at  this  time,  in  spite  of 
his  diligent  and  anxious  search  for  it.  To  the  se 
rious  financial  situation  was  added  the  bitter  recog 
nition  of  the  fact  that  the  condition  of  the  beloved 
sufferer  was  daily  growing  worse. 

Despair  seized  the  unhappy  family.  The  head 
of  the  firm  was  the  only  person  from  whom  they 
might  expect  help.  Accordingly  Mrs.  Martin  de 
cided  to  go  to  him  as  soon  as  possible,  since  the 
factory  was  to  be  closed  for  an  indefinite  time. 

Shyly  and  hesitatingly  she  entered  the  office. 
The  thought  of  having  to  confess  her  dire  poverty 
brought  a  flood  of  red  to  her  thin  face.  No  one 
was  in  the  office  but  a  clerk.  To  the  question  as 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  77 


to  whether  she  could  see  Mr.  Denison  he  answered 
with  a  contemptuous  laugh  that  Mr.  Denison  had 
more  important  business  on  hand  that  day,  and 
was  visible  to  no  one.  Her  urgent  entreaty  to  be 
allowed  to  see  him  if  only  for  a  moment  was  in 
vain.  The  clerk  rudely  showed  her  the  door. 

During  this  conversation,  Lucy,  the  recently 
betrothed  daughter  of  the  manufacturer,  sat  list 
ening  in  an  adjoining  room.  The  continued  dis 
turbances  at  the  factory  had  caused  her  so  much 
anxiety  that  she  had  insisted  upon  accompanying 
her  father  to  the  works,  which  she  had  scarcely 
visited  before  since  her  return  from  Germany. 
She  had  studied  for  two  years  at  a  school  in  Leip 
zig,  and  through  the  intellectual  treasures  of  Ger 
man  literature  and  art  she  had  become  conversant 
with  nobler  pleasures  than  those  which  proved  so 
attractive  to  Mr.  Elmore,  her  fiance.  Her  aspira 
tions  for  high  and  beautiful  ideals  found  rich 
satisfaction  in  the  finer  and  more  artistic  pur 
suits. 

She  was  sitting  thoughtfully  by  the  window, 
looking  out  at  the  grey  clouds  that  chased  each 
other  across  the  sky  like  a  troop  of  headless 


78  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


ghosts.  Her  profile  was,  perhaps,  lacking  in  the 
classic  lines  which  esthetic  laws  prescribe  for 
beauty ;  but  a  rich  spiritual  life  gave  an  indescriba 
ble  charm  to  her  pale  countenance. 

Her  large,  meditative  eyes  seemed  shadowed 
today  by  a  deep  melancholy.  However  she  tried 
to  fix  her  thoughts  on  George  Elmore,  the  com 
panion  of  her  childhood,  to  whom,  at  her  parents' 
wish  she  had  engaged  herself,  today  she  found  it 
impossible.  Always  there  arose  from  the  depths 
of  her  memory  the  face  of  a  shy,  gentle  youth 
with  light,  curling  hair  and  deep  searching  eyes, 
and  the  vision  made  her  tremble. 

Chance  had  made  them  acquainted  at  the  Art 
School.  She  had  been  trying,  unsuccessfully,  to 
reproduce  the  luminous  expression  of  a  saint.  Her 
neighbor,  watching  her  conflict  with  her  difficult 
task,  showed,  in  his  shy  fashion,  his  willingness 
to  be  of  use  to  her.  With  a  few  strokes  of  his 
brush  he  succeeded  in  catching  the  desired  ex 
pression,  and  at  the  same  time  gave  her  in  a  hesi 
tating  voice  an  explanation  of  the  picture,  and  its 
purpose.  He  spoke  of  the  light  effects  which  he 
considered  an  erroneous  conception  on  the  part  of 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  79 


the  painter,  while  the  next  picture,  belonging  in 
part  to  the  school  of  Rembrandt,  reached  a  hap 
pier  effect  from  the  depths  of  the  shadows  in  one 
place  and  the  heightening  of  the  light  in  another. 

From  that  time  on  they  worked  for  hours  side 
by  side,  he  explaining  the  lights  and  shadows  of 
each  picture  with  such  fullness  of  comprehension, 
such  a  thorough  knowledge  of  history,  literature, 
and  art,  as  to  make  a  deep  impression  on  her  mind. 
Her  two  years'  sojourn  in  Germany  had  not  been 
able  to  efface  these  art-school  recollections.  She 
did  not  know  his  name,  to  say  nothing  of  his  social 
position  and  still — she  could  not  forget — 
even  now  she  thought  of  him — even  now  his  pic 
ture  thrust  itself  between  her  and  her  fiance. 

Involuntarily  she  sprang  to  her  feet  to  escape 
those  torturing  thoughts.  Her  attention  was 
caught  by  the  sound  of  low  sobbing.  She  was  able 
to  observe  through  a  crack  in  the  partition  the 
distress  of  poor  Mrs.  Martin,  as  the  clerk  refused 
her  admittance  into  the  manufacturer's  private 
office. 

Broken  with  discouragement    and    suffering, 


80  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


Mrs.  Martin  had  scarcely  closed  the  door  behind 
her  when  Lucy  entered  the  office. 

"Who  is  that  sobbing  woman?"  she  asked  has 
tily  of  the  clerk. 

"That  woman?  She  is  the  wife  of  the  former 
foreman,  whom — the  strikers — handled  somewhat 
roughly,"  he  answered,  hesitatingly,  dropping 
his  malicious  eyes. 

"She  wished  to  speak  to  papa,  didn't  she? 
Why  didn't  you  let  her  in? "  she  demanded,  frown 
ing. 

"Because  I  had  strict  orders  not  to  let  anyone 
in  today,"  he  replied  shortly,  suppressing  his  re 
bellious  feelings. 

"Then  I  must  hurry  after  the  poor  woman  and 
ask  her  if  there  is  anything  I  can  do  for  her," 
murmured  Lucy  with  quick  decision,  taking  up 
her  hat  and  cape  from  an  adjoining  room. 

"I  suppose  the  distinguished  Mr.  Martin's 
last  dollar's  gone,"  sneered  the  clerk  after  her 
in  an  Irish  accent. 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  81 


III. 


Lucy  hastened  after  Mrs.  Martin,  who  was  still 
visible  in  the  distance.  As  the  deeply  tried  woman 
closed  the  door  of  her  modest  dwelling,  a  light 
step  made  her  turn  and  open  it  again.  She  gazed 
with  surprise  into  the  face  of  the  elegantly-gown 
ed  girl  with  the  gold-rimmed  glasses. 

"Does  Mr.  Martin  live  here!"  the  girl  inquir 
ed  in  a  doubtful  voice. 

"Yes.  Will  you  be  so  good  as  to  walk  in?" 
answered  the  astonished  woman.  And  then  with 
a  glance  into  the  room — "Eugene,  a  lady!"  she 
called  to  her  son. 

An  inner  door  opened  and  Eugene  Martin  ap 
peared.  They  stood  speechless,  gazingjn  confus 
ion  at  each  other,  while  white  and  red  chased  each 
other  over  both  of  their  faces.  It  was  perfectly 
obvious  that  they  were  not  strangers  to  each  other ; 
indeed,  they  had  often  painted  side  by  side  at  the 
Art  School.  It  was  the  same  shy,  gentle  youth 
with  the  dark  speaking  eyes  who  had  occupied 


82  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


more  of  her  thoughts  than  would  have  been  con 
sidered  advisable  for  an  engaged  girl.  Neverthe 
less  she  struggled  to  conceal  her  excitement,  and 
to  appear  calmly  in  the  character  of  the  purpose 
which  had  brought  her.  But  how  could  she  offer 
alms  to  this  family?  No,  it  would  no  longer  be 
possible ;  her  sensibilities  revolted  at  this  thought, 
and  for  the  moment  she  wished  even  to  conceal 
her  name  from  them. 

"I  wished  to  have  a  picture  of  my — "  she  was 
about  to  say,  "of  my  fiance,"  without  really  think 
ing  of  him  in  the  least,  but  a  flame  of  red  over 
spread  her  face  and  the  word  died  upon  her  lips. 
" — of  myself,"  she  substituted.  "And  I  wish  it 
done  in  oils, ' '  she  went  on  in  a  firmer  tone. 

Eugene  conducted  the  visitor  to  the  scrupu 
lously  clean,  though  modest,  little  parlor.  In  or 
der  to  reach  it  they  were  obliged  to  pass  through 
the  room  where  his  father  lay  ill,  the  wild  fancies 
of  fever  playing  antics  in  his  brain.  Lucy  threw 
a  glance  of  deep  sympathy  at  the  sufferer,  visibly 
moved  at  the  sight  of  his  hollow,  ashen  face. 

The  great  interest  she  displayed  and  the  anx 
ious  inquiries  she  made  about  his  father's  illness, 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  83 


filled  Eugene's  heart  with  gratitude.  He  could 
have  knelt  before  this  being  from  another  sphere, 
to  whom  he  had  scarcely  dared  to  raise  his  eyes, 
and  thank  her  in  that  humble  way  of  his  for  the 
warm  sympathy  she  bestowed  on  his  sick  father. 

"I  have  seen  some  of  your  paintings,  and — 
I  am  quite  sure  that  my  portrait  will  be  a  suc 
cess — "  began  Lucy,  stammering  again,  as  she 
looked  at  the  sketches  displayed  about  the  room. 

"I  should,  of  course,  do  my  best — to — keep 
your  good  opinion  of  my  capability,"  answered 
Eugene,  with  downcast  eyes  and  a  hesitating 
tongue. 

Lucy  had  taken  up  a  portfolio  and  was  turn 
ing  over  its  contents,  simply  to  avoid  having  to 
meet  his  glances.  She  was  afraid  he  might  read 
what  was  passing  in  her  mind. 

"But  whether  I  should  be  able  to  satisfy  a  lady 
who  has  so  much  artistic  knowledge — I  hardly 
know, ' '  he  admitted  modestly,  * '  for  of  late  I  have 
not  been  able  to  do  much  except  this  landscape." 

He  indicated  a  picture  which  hung  at  the  other 
end  of  the  room,  wondering  at  the  flush  which  had 


84  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


overspread  Lucy's  face  as  she  bent  over  the  port 
folio,  her  blood  tingling  to  her  finger's  ends. 

She  put  down  the  treacherous  portfolio  hasti 
ly.  The  exposition  of  the  secret  hidden  within  its 
covers  made  her  tremble.  One  of  her  own  draw 
ings,  which  she  had  probably  thrown  away,  sud 
denly  met  her  eyes.  It  had  been  enriched  by  a 
border  of  blue  forget-me-nots,  and  as  she  drew  it 
forth  from  one  of  the  side  pockets  she  saw,  under 
neath  it,  written  in  Eugene's  hand,  the  single 
word :  ' '  Unf orgetable. ' ' 

Her  heart  beat  loudly;  still  she  retained  self- 
command  enough  to  ask  in  an  indifferent  tone, 
when  he  would  be  ready  to  begin  the  sketch  for  the 
portrait,  at  the  same  time  examining  the  picture 
to  which  he  had  drawn  her  attention. 

"I  should  like  to  know,  also,  what  your  price 
is  to  be  for  the  execution  of  the  picture, ' '  she  said, 
raising  her  eyes  timidly. 

He  would  have  been  glad  to  avoid  any  mention 
ing  of  the  question  of  money,  but  when  she  insist 
ed,  in  a  hesitating  voice,  he  named  a  small  amount. 

"I  believe  it  is  customary  to  pay  half  in  ad 
vance,  ' '  Lucy  went  on  with  an  embarrassed  smile, 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  85 


handing  a  fifty-dollar  note  to  the  confused  Eugene, 
in  spite  of  his  shy  protest  that  he  was  not  in  the 
least  hurry  about  it. 

After  the  day  and  hour  had  been  fixed  for  the 
first  sketch  of  the  portrait,  Lucy  returned  to  the 
factory  deeply  gratified  that  she  had  found  a  way 
to  help  the  poor  woman  in  her  distress.  Her 
father,  immersed  in  business,  had  scarcely  noticed 
her  absence.  She  would  have  liked  to  tell  him 
something  of  the  poverty  and  illness  of  his  old 
foreman,  but  an  indefinable  feeling  of  shyness 
kept  her  silent.  The  factory  was  closed  on  the 
same  day. 

Poor  Martin's  condition  grew  visibly  worse. 
On  the  doctor's  recommendation,  he  was  trans 
ferred  to  the  neighboring  hospital,  and  the  afflict 
ed  family  reconciled  themselves  to  the  inevitable. 
Although  the  poor  wife  had  tended  him  day  and 
night  with  never-varying  devotion,  she  could  not 
but  admit  that  she  was  not  in  a  position  to  give 
him  all  that  was  required  by  the  physician's  direc 
tions. 

Eugene,  now  the  only  support  of  the  family, 
was  obliged,  in  default  of  anything  better,  to 


86  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


take  to  retouching  pictures  for  photographers. 
This  ill-paid  mechanical  labor  was  beginning  to 
have  an  injurious  effect  upon  his  imagination.  The 
day-dreams  which  had  filled  his  whole  soul,  antici 
pating  his  going  to  the  Eternal  City,  to  receive 
there  the  artist's  consecration  by  studying  the 
great  masterpieces,  he  now  saw  vanishing  into 
comfortless  vacuity,  replaced  by  nothing  better 
than  the  dreamy  monotony  of  earning  his  daily 
bread  by  hard  and  uninteresting  work. 

Lucy's  meteoric  appearance,  however,  had 
filled  the  darkened  spirit  of  the  young  man  with 
a  cheering  light.  With  fiery  eagerness  he  began 
sketching  the  dear  face  which  he  had  never  been 
able  to  forget.  The  laboring  mechanic  disappear 
ed,  and  the  artist,  once  more  awakened,  felt  his 
genius  glow  again  with  the  desire  to  create.  This 
girl,  the  very  sight  of  whom  made  him  trem 
ble  with  joy,  must  not  be  allowed  to  lose  her  faith 
in  his  talent — his  artistic  capacity.  In  her  eyes 
he  wished  to  be  that,  which  his  dreams  had  prom 
ised  he  should  be — a  real  artist,  even  if  he  were 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  87 


obliged  to  strain  his  powers  to  the  very  limit  of 
the  unattainable. 

At  the  appointed  hours  Lucy  came,  bringing, 
like  Schiller's  ' Maiden  from  a  foreign  shore,'  val 
uable  gifts  for  his  mother,  with  fruits  and  toys  for 
the  children.  To  Eugene,  however,  she  brought 
the  most  fatal  gift — a  ray  of  that  unsurpassable 
bitter-sweet  pain  which  men  call  love,  and  which 
often  ends  only  with  life.  After  she  had  left  the 
house  all  trace  of  her  vanished ;  none  of  them  knew 
whence  she  came  or  whither  she  went. 

"With  each  sitting  Eugene  grew  into  a  condi 
tion  of  more  blissful  intoxication,  although  Lucy, 
in  her  refined  unapproachableness,  gave  him  not 
the  slightest  excuse  for  such  a  feeling.  Only  once 
he  felt  her  thoughtful  eyes  resting  upon  him  with 
an  expression  which  sent  the  blood  coursing  mad 
ly  through  his  veins. 


88  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


IV. 


One  day  when  the  picture  was  almost  com 
pleted  he  received  the  following  lines  from  her : 

' '  I  am  going  with  my  mother  to  Palm 
Beach,  where  we  expect  to  spend  a  month 
or  two.  If  my  portrait  is  done  before  I 
come  back,  kindly  send  it  to  No.  —  Fifth 
Avenue.  Remember  me  to  your  dear 
ones.  LUCY." 

A  check  was  enclosed  for  the  balance  of  the 
stipulated  price. 

Eugene  felt  an  icy  breath  sweep  over  the  glow 
ing  love  which  filled  his  heart,  like  the  freezing 
north  wind  which  brings  death  and  destruction 
in  its  train,  blowing  over  land  and  sea  and  carry 
ing  all  before  it.  His  artistic  powers  to  strive 
for  the  heights  of  ideals  seemed  broken ;  'he  had  no 
energy  left.  All  was  dark  and  gloomy  within 
him. 

" She  is  rich  and  I — oh,  so  poor!"  was  the 
thought  incessantly  in  his  mind. 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  89 


In  his  present  position  as  sole  support  of  Ms 
family  he  could  not  long  give  himself  up  to  such 
unfruitful  emotions;  he  must  work  in  order  to 
provide  bread  for  his  mother  and  the  children. 
And  so  he  tried  by  hard,  incessant  labor,  by  con 
stant  occupation,  to  forget  the  sweet  dream  of  his 
brief,  imaginary  happiness.  A  bitter  feeling  of 
depression  rose  in  him  at  the  thought  that  the 
richly-dressed  lady  must  consider  him  a  fool, 
puff ed  up  with  artistic  pride ;  that  she  thought  of 
him,  if  at  all,  with  a  pitying  smile  at  his  presump 
tion. 

Thanks  to  the  skillful  medical  care  which  Mar 
tin  shared  at  the  hospital,  he  was  soon  on  the  road 
to  recovery. 

"You  will  have  to  get  used  to  the  idea  of  hav 
ing  a  lame  husband  the  rest  of  your  life, ' '  he  would 
say  smilingly  to  his  wife,  who  visited  him  daily. 

"If  only  your  love  isn't  lame,  we  shall  be  all 
right  again,"  she  answered  him  with  simple  af 
fection.  He  wiped  away  an  unobserved  tear,  and 
pressed  her  hand  with  emotion. 

Eugene  grew  pale  and  nervous.  Seeking  for- 
getfulness  in  his  work  he  labored  day  and  night 


90  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


with  unwearying  diligence,  allowing  himself  no 
time  for  rest.  In  the  brief  pauses  he  was  obliged 
to  make  it  obvious,  however,  that  he  had  not  en 
tirely  succeeded.  Something  of  pain,  of  untold 
suffering,  would  then  steal  over  his  weary  face. 
The  nervous  strain,  continued  for  weeks,  together 
with  the  hardly  repressed  mental  conflict,  began, 
little  by  little,  to  undermine  his  constitution,  nev 
er  of  the  strongest. 

It  was  just  a  week  after  his  father  had  left  the 
hospital  (with  one  leg  shorter  than  the  other  but 
otherwise  in  good  health)  that  Eugene  fell  faint 
ing  at  his  work.  In  a  day  or  two  a  severe  nervous 
fever  developed.  His  parents,  horribly  frighten 
ed,  did  all  in  their  power  to  aid  his  recovery. 

Martin,  though  still  weak,  made  haste  to  hob 
ble  to  the  factory,  which,  on  the  termination  of 
the  strike  had  opened  as  usual,  to  try  for  his  for 
mer  position. 

' 'Is  Mr.  Denison  here!"  he  asked  of  the  book 
keeper,  who  was  a  stranger  to  him. 

"Mr.  Denison  has  gone  to  Florida — the  date 
of  his  return  is  uncertain,"  answered  the  book 
keeper,  returning  to  his  interrupted  occupation 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  91 


without  paying  any  more  attention  to  the  white- 
faced  cripple  who  stood  leaning  against  the  desk. 

"My  name  is  Martin,  and  I  used  to  be  in 
charge  of  the  dyeing  department  here,"  persisted 
the  anxious  applicant,  resolved  not  to  be  dis 
missed  so  easily. 

"Every  place  is  filled  now,  and  well  filled," 
said  the  book-keeper  with  a  trace  of  irritation,  not 
looking  up  from  his  big  ledger;  "and  anyhow, 
you  may  be  quite  sure  there  will  be  no  change  in 
the  staff  as  long  as  the  boss  is  away. ' ' 

Crushed  and  despairing,  Martin  tottered  out 
of  the  office.  But  full  of  confidence  in  his  ability 
as  a  dyer,  he  decided  to  go  to  another  factory  and 
offer  his  services. 

His  sad,  depressed  appearance,  however,  was 
no  good  introduction  in  a  place  where  only  strong 
hands  were  looked  for,  so  nothing  but  disappoint 
ment  awaited  him  at  the  other  places. 

"The  strike  has  ruined  business,"  said  one  of 
the  manufacturers,  while  another  laid  the  blame 
on  over-production.  "Come  in  some  other  day," 
said  a  third. 

During  all  these  unsuccessful  attempts  to  pro- 


92  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


vide  the  means  of  subsistence  one  week  after 
another  slipped  away.  Now  the  lack  of  the  bar 
est  necessities  stared  them  in  the  face — bitter 
need,  upon  whose  hideous  features  they  had  not 
before  been  forced  to  look. 

And  Eugene,  in  the  delirium  of  his  fever,  was 
always  talking  of  the  inaccessible  maiden  from 
another  sphere.  His  clear-sighted  mother  began 
to  grasp  the  meaning  of  all  this  with  anxious  fore 
boding. 

"What's  to  be  done?  What's  to  be  done?" 
the  poor  cripple  asked  himself,  wringing  his 
hands,  when  he  was  notified  that  unless  he  paid 
his  back  rent  within  twenty-four  hours,  he  and  his 
family  would  be  put  into  the  street. 

With  despair  in  his  heart  he  hastened  out,  and 
sold  everything  of  any  value  that  was  yet  left  to 
him  in  order  to  avoid  this  disgrace. 

"And  then  we'll  get  out  of  this  unlucky 
street ! ' '  cried  the  mother,  sobbing  and  wiping  the 
hot  tears  from  her  eyes. 

After  a  short  family  council  it  was  decided  to 
move  over  to  New  York. 

"No  one  knows  me  there;  I  can  get  any  kind 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS. 


of  employment  in  New  York — and  work  is  easier 
to  find  there  than  it  is  here, ' '  said  Martin  to  com 
fort  his  sobbing  wife. 

A  week  later  found  the  sorely-tried  family  in 
one  of  the  great  barracks  of  tenements  in  the 
lower  part  of  the  city.  As  a  whole,  the  neighbor 
hood  could  not  be  surpassed  for  lack  of  comfort, 
and  little  more  appeared  in  the  three  bare  rooms 
tenanted  by  the  Martin  family. 

Eugene's  condition  had  improved,  although 
he  was  still  confined  to  his  bed ;  but  the  poor  fath 
er 's  mind  was  even  more  tormented  by  the  fearful 
spectre  of  poverty,  and  yet — in  busy,  populous 
New  York,  surely,  there  was  work  to  be  found ! 

Pie  was  going  upstairs  one  day  when  he  was 
stopped  by  a  woman  who  was  a  stranger  to  him. 
She  opened  an  adjoining  door,  and  asked  him  to 
step  into  the  room.  Her  husband  was  lying  there 
sick  in  bed  and  groaning  with  pain. 

''Excuse  me,"  began  the  woman,  ''my  hus 
band  is  a  street-cleaner — he  sweeps  Fifth  Ave 
nue,"  she  added,  with  a  proud  intonation.  "For 
twenty-five  years — mind  that — he  had  done  his 
duty;  and  now  the  commissioners  send  for  him 


94  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


today  and  here  lie  is,  sick  in  bed  and  can't  sweep 
his  Fifth  Avenue!"  She  went  on  with  great  lo 
quacity,  without  paying  any  heed  to  the  embar 
rassed  face  of  her  new  neighbor. 

*  *  If  you  will  take  his  place  I  will  give  you  his 
whole  day's  wages!"  she  shouted,  handing  him 
the  money  together  with  the  broom. 

Martin  was  unable  to  resist  the  fascination  of 
coins  so  badly  needed.  The  other  street-cleaners 
were  waiting  down  stairs.  After  the  robust  wo 
man  had  communicated  the  whole  affair  to  them 
through  the  window  they  took  Martin  into  their 
ranks  without  any  waste  of  words  and  marched 
on  before  he  had  time  to  realize  where  he  was  go 
ing.  Pressing  his  hat  over  his  eyes  he  hobbled 
along  with  them  as  well  as  he  could,  while  actual 
tears  rolled  down  into  his  grey  beard. 

But  the  thought  of  coming  home  at  night  with 
the  money  he  had  earned  soothed  him  to  some  ex 
tent.  His  family  need  never  know,  and  he  was 
not  acquainted  with  another  soul  in  the  great  city. 

How  sorely  he  was  hurt  by  the  knowledge  that 
his  former  employer's  wife  had  seen  him  at  this 
undignified  occupation  is  already  known  to  the 
reader. 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  95 


V. 


On  the  evening  in  question  Lucy  was  unusually 
quiet  and  absorbed.  She  had  scarcely  seemed  to 
understand  the  loving  words  whispered  in  her  ear 
by  her  lover  who  sat  beside  her;  she  was  obliged 
to  force  herself,  even,  to  return  monosyllabic  an 
swers  to  his  questions.  Her  thoughts  were  else 
where.  She  had  only  been  back  from  Palm  Beach 
a  little  while,  and  had  heard  nothing  from  the 
family  in  which  she  was  so  much  interested.  But 
her  busy  imagination  depicted  .the  well-known 
room  which  contained  the  portfolio  which  had 
played  such  a  part  in  her  life ;  and  Eugene 's  fair, 
curly  head,  and  glowing,  longing  glances.  Then 
once  more,  she  saw  his  father  with  the  broom — 
the  almsgiving  scene.  Her  thoughts  were  inces 
santly  occupied  with  the  son  of  a  street-cleaner ! 

A  burning  flush  of  shame  overspread  her  pale 
face,  which  George  Elmore  accepted  as  the  answer 
to  his  tenderly  whispered  entreaties  that  she 


96  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


should  become  his  wife  at  once,  and  kissed  her 
hand  repeatedly. 

The  son  of  a  street-cleaner  to  thrust  himself 
between  her  and  George !  Being  what  she  was — 
a  proud  woman  and  an  heiress,  she  was  startled. 

"How  could  I  so  far  forget  myself!"  she  re 
flected.  "Heavens!  if  George  were  to  suspect!" 

She  tried  her  best  to  drive  away  the  em 
barrassing — nay,  the  dishonoring  thought.  The 
idea  struck  her  as  ludicrous — horribly  ludicrous, 
and  that  disturbed  her  even  more. 

Obviously  there  was  but  one  way  out  of  this 
labyrinth  of  tormenting  thoughts — to  vinarry  as 
soon  as  possible.  She  had  a  mind  to  say  the  deci 
sive  word  this  very  evening  and  appoint,  finally 
the  day  for  the  wedding.  As  George's  wife  she 
would  find  rest  and  healing  for  her  stubborn  heart 
in  the  fulfilment  of  her  duty,  and  be  able  to  realize 
how  foolish  it  was  to  allow  it  unlimited  play  out 
side  the  bounds  of  reason.  In  the  meantime  the 
poor  family  must  be  helped.  In  spite  of  the  found 
ations  of  reason  which  she  had  just  laid,  she  felt 
an  interest  in  them. 

"Nonsense!    It  is  nothing  but  sympathy  for 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  97 


those  unfortunates,"  she  tried  to  persuade  her 
self.  Tomorrow  she  would  have  a  talk  with  her 
father  with  a  view  to  having  Martin  restored  to 
his  old  place  in  the  factory.  She  would  pretend 
to  have  gained  her  knowledge  of  their  circum 
stances  from  a  friend  who  had  employed  their  son 
for  a  short  time. 

She  could  not,  however,  entirely  suppress  the 
pricks  of  conscience  which  told  her  that  her  silence 
to  her  father  had  delayed  this  restoration,  and 
had  thus  been  responsible  for  the  complete  desti 
tution  of  these  worthy  people. 

Three  days  later  Martin  received  orders 
through  a  workman  in  the  factory  who  knew  his 
address  to  report  there  with  a  view  to  resuming 
his  former  position.  Accordingly  great  joy  pre 
vailed  in  the  Martin  family.  Eugene  was  the  only 
one  now,  weak  and  ill  as  he  still  was,  to  remain 
gloomy  and  self-absorbed. 

A  gleam  of  happier  feeling  overspread  his  pale 
face  when  he  brought  out  Lucy's  picture,  now  al 
most  completed,  and  heightened  the  attractive 
ness  of  the  cheeks,  or  made  the  thoughtful  eyes 
yet  more  speaking.  And  then  he  thought  how, 


98  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


when  it  was  all  done,  he  would  seek  her  out  and 
himself   deliver  it  to  her,  and  once  more   he  re 
solved    to  allow  the  full  fascination  of  her  dear 
presence  to  work  its  will  upon  him. 

"And  after  that,  I  must  avoid  her— flee  from 
her !  We  must  be  as  two  stars  which  cannot  tear 
themselves  from  their  own  destined  spheres,  but 
are  forced  to  wander  each  in  its  own  appointed 
orbit,"  he  murmured  to  himself  with  bitter  pain, 
gazing  at  the  picture  with  unspeakable  dejection. 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  99 


VI. 


The  delicious  month  of  May  had  now  come 
round  once  more.  Nature,  awakening  to  life,  put 
on  its  wondrous  robe  of  many  colors,  and  the  sun 
in  proud  consciousness  of  its  power  to  tempt  with 
the  alluring  warmth,  the  flowers  concealed  in  the 
mystic  bosom  of  Mother  Earth,  shone  with  ever  in 
creasing  fervency.  In  Central  Park  Nature's 
feathered  choir  poured  forth  its  gay  song  into  the 
lovely  spring  air,  while  the  perfumed  lilacs  lavish 
ed  their  scent  upon  all  who  came,  caring  not 
whether  the  dweller  in  tenements  breathed  it  in 
greedily,  or  whether  the  superior  residents  of 
Fifth  Avenue  ignored  it  contemptuously. 

In  the  house  of  the  rich  manufacturer  the  per 
fume  of  the  lilacs  was  not  missed;  the  most 
recherche  hot-house  plants  supplanting  them  in 
fragrance  were  artistically  grouped  on  both  sides 
of  the  great  staircase  down  to  the  front  door,  fill 
ing  all  the  room  with  a  perfume  that  bewildered 
the  senses.  Servants  in  livery  hastened  busily,  but 
noiselessly,  about,  putting  the  last  touches  to  the 


100  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


decorations  of  the  parlor  for  the  wedding  cere 
mony  to  be  performed  on  this  day.  In  the  adjoin 
ing  room  a  beautiful  altar  was  visible,  decked  with 
superb  flowers  from  which  festoons  of  myrtle  ran 
up  to  a  hanging  bell  of  red  and  white  roses. 

Carriage  after  carriage  rolled  to  the  door, 
from  which  descended  fair  guests,  arrayed  in 
splendid  Worth  and  Felix  gowns,  while  faultlessly 
dressed  gentlemen  helped  them  to  alight. 

In  her  room  upstairs  stood  Lucy,  in  a  white 
dress  and  gold-embroidered  veil,  with  orange 
blossoms  upon  her  bosom.  Although  apparently 
calm,  she  was  deathly  pale,  and  her  heart,  whose 
feelings  had  been  suppressed  with  so  much  diffi 
culty,  betrayed  itself  by  violent  beating.  A  name 
less  uneasiness  was  upon  her,  almost  suffocating 
her  at  times.  Eugene 's  fair  head  and  disquieting 
eyes  were  before  her  mind  vividly — now — when 
in  an  hour's  time  she  would  be  the  bride  of 
another.  More  than  once  she  was  obliged  to 
have  recourse  to  the  smelling-bottle  which  stood 
upon  the  dressing-table,  in  order  not  to  give  way 
— to  be  strong  enough  to  bear  the  torture  of  the 
ceremony  with  dignified  calmness. 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  101 


"The  shock  to  my  parents — the  society  in 
which  I  move — no,  no,  there  is  no  retreat  for  me ! ' ' 
she  murmured  with  decision  in  answer  to  her 
heart's  loud  insistence.  She  was  marrying 
George  in  fulfillment  of  her  parents'  wishes  and 
also  to  escape  from  her  tormenting  self.  That  in 
making  this  decision  she  had  buried  the  ideals  of 
her  youth — her  life's  happiness,  no  one  should 
ever  guess.  It  was  time  now  to  steer  boldly  forth 
into  the  deep  sea  of  matrimony,  deprived  forever 
of  her  life's  compass. 

Mrs.  Denison,  in  a  costly  dress,  had  repeatedly 
opened  the  window  and  gazed  with  anxious  impa 
tience  at  all  the  carriages  that  came  from  the  low 
er  part  of  the  city,  but  she  saw  no  sign  of  their 
own  carriage  so  impatiently  awaited.  Mr.  Deni 
son  had  gone  down  town  in  the  morning,  promis 
ing  to  be  back  before  noon,  and  now  it  was  four 
o  'clock. 

Disquieting  rumors  had  already  begun  to  cir 
culate  to  the  effect  that  the  great  banking  house 
with  which  their  whole  fortune  was  deposited  was 
on  an  unstable  footing,  owing  to  a  rapid  fall  in  the 
stock  market. 


102  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


Mr.  Denison  had  said  nothing  of  this  to  his 
wife,  although  a  horrible  agitation  had  taken  pos 
session  of  him,  when,  upon  leaving  the  house  he 
had  told  the  coachman  to  drive  at  full  speed  to  the 
banking  house. 

The  guests  were  all  assembled.  The  clergy 
man  was  waiting,  but  still  there  was  no  sign  of 
Mr.  Denison.  An  uneasy  whisper,  an  ever-in 
creasing  impatience,  could  be  noticed.  Mrs. 
Denison 's  thin  face  took  on  a  feverish  red.  El- 
more 's  father  was  just  about  to  telephone  down 
town,  when,  at  last  the  carriage  rolled  up  to  the 
door.  The  coachman,  excited  with  overdriving, 
leaped  from  his  seat  and  opened  the  carriage 
door ;  but  he  had  no  sooner  cast  a  glance  into  the 
carriage  than  he  uttered  a  loud  cry,  and  with  un 
steady  footsteps,  hastened  to  Mrs.  Denison. 

1  'Don't  be  alarmed,  Mrs.  Denison,  please  don't 
be  alarmed — "  he  panted  in  a  trembling  voice, 
"The  big  banking  house  down  town  failed  this 
morning — and — it  seems — Mr.  Denison  was  so 
fearfully  upset — so  fearfully — when  he  came  out 
of  the  bank  his  face  was  all  red — and  I  heard  him 
say  in  a  low  voice  that  he  would  have  to  fail  too ! 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  103 


Yes — and  now — please  don't  be  frightened — he's 
lying  dead  in  the  carriage ! ' ' 

With  a  loud  shriek,  wringing  her  hands  and 
moaning,  Mrs.  Denison  hastened  to  the  carriage. 
The  gentlemen  guests  carried  Mr.  Denison 's  body, 
still  warm,  into  the  house.  ' '  Heart  failure, ' '  said 
one  to  another.  The  women  gathered  around 
Mrs.  Denison,  who  was  loudly  weeping,  and  tried 
to  console  her.  Then  one  by  one  they  stole  away, 
since  it  was  quite  obvious  that  there  would  be  no 
more  thought  of  the  marriage  that  day. 

Lucy,  worn  out  by  weeks  of  mental  agitation, 
was  overcome  by  the  sudden  shock  of  this  sad 
news,  and  fell  back  without  a  word  upon  the  sofa, 
gliding  gently  from  it  to  the  floor.  A  beneficent 
unconsciousness  clouded  her  perceptions.  No  one 
had  time  to  care  for  her ;  all  the  servants  had  been 
sent  right  and  left  to  bring  medical  aid  for  Mr. 
Denison.  All  means  of  restoration  were  tried, 
but  failed  to  bring  him  back  to  life.  ' '  Apoplexy, ' ' 
said  the  physicians,  and  silently  left  the  house. 

Meanwhile  Lucy  lay  on  the  soft  carpet  without 
a  word  or  motion.  In  her  dazzling  white  dress, 
with  the  gold-embroidered  veil,  with  the  marble 


104  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


paleness  on  her  face,  she  looked  like  a  sculptured 
goddess  who  had  fallen  from  her  pedestal. 

The  last  wedding  guests,  those  who  had  helped 
to  carry  Mr.  Denison  up  to  his  room,  had  just 
driven  away,  sighing  and  shaking  their  heads  as 
they  discussed  the  sad  event.  The  stillness  of 
death  settled  over  the  house.  Suddenly  a  sound 
was  heard  as  of  soft  footsteps  drawing  near. 
Then  the  door  of  Lucy's  boudoir,  which  had  been 
left  ajar,  was  gently  opened.  A  curly-headed 
young  man  with  a  disturbed  countenance  appear 
ed  upon  the  threshold,  looking  right  and  left  with 
admiring  wonder.  The  front  door  was  still  stand 
ing  open — no  one  had  found  time  to  close  it. 

Eugene,  bringing  Lucy's  portrait,  had  thus 
been  able  to  penetrate  unperceived,  to  the  upper 
story.  Hardly  able  to  believe  his  e^j,  he  gazed 
at  the  fair  form  in  bridal  attire  lying  upon  the 
floor. 

Startled  and  trembling  in  all  his  limbs,  he  was 
about  to  close  the  door  he  had  just  opened,  when 
he  caught  sight  of  Lucy's  face,  pale  as  death, 
through  the  veil.  Hastily  putting  down  the  por 
trait,  he  darted  to  her  side,  and  trembling  with 


HE    GAZED    AT    THE    FAIR    FACE    IN    BRIDAL    ATTIRE 
LYING   UPON    THE   FLOOR 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  105 


intense  excitement,  caught  her  cold  hands  to  his 
heart. 

"Miss  Lucy!  Miss  Lucy!"  he  cried,  at  first  in 
a  low  voice,  then  louder  and  more  anxiously — 
but  she  still  lay  there,  cold  and  apparently  life 
less. 

Distracted,  he  looked  about  for  help.  He 
caught  sight  of  the  smelling  bottle  which  Lucy  had 
already  used  so  often.  He  seized  it  quickly,  push 
ed  aside  her  veil,  and  held  it  to  her  nostrils. 

A  slight  tremor  passed  through  the  beautiful 
limbs.  Lucy  moved  her  hand,  but  let  it  fall  again. 
Eugene  sprang  up  joyfully.  As  if  she  had  been 
a  feather  he  lifted  the  girl,  now  stirring  a  little.  In 
blissful  intoxication,  he  clasped  his  heart's  ideal 
for  one  moment  in  his  arms.  Her  breath  played 
over  his  face,  making  him  tremble  with  delight — 
carrying  him  out  of  himself,  so  that  he  pressed  his 
lips  to  her's,  not  knowing  what  he  did.  "How  has 
this  bright  creature  filled  my  lonely  life  with  sun 
shine!"  he  murmured  sadly  to  himself,  as  with 
a  deep  sigh  he  laid  Lucy  on  the  sofa. 

And  then, — he  felt  the  soft  arms  suddenly 
thrown  about  Ms  neck.  Lucy,  still  dazed  and 


106  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


dreaming,  had  forgotten  all  about  her  wedding 
day,  and  knew  nothing  of  her  father's  death. 
Eugene's  words  of  love  had  roused  her  from  her 
death-like  stupor;  she  was  conscious  only  of  his 
nearness — of  the  intoxication  of  his  kiss. 

"Oh,  Eugene,"  she  whispered,  "what  a  lovely 
dream ! ' '  She  still  lay  with  closed  eyes.  Eugene, 
speechless  with  delight,  pressed  her  passionately 
to  his  beating  heart.  Lucy,  startled,  opened  her 
eyes. 

Suddenly  George  Elmore,  his  eyes  blazing, 
stood  before  her,  looking  down  upon  her  haugh 
tily. 

Without  losing  his  self-command  in  the  least 
he  said  with  cutting  scorn, ' '  Oh,  I  am  interrupting 
a  tete-a-tete!  We  have  a  lover,  have  we?  Just 
as  well  I  have  found  it  out  in  time !  Ha,  ha !  I 
wish  you  much  happiness — especially  as  in  my 
own  case  my  family  would  have  to  decline  the 
honor  of  an  alliance  with  a  bankrupt's  daughter !" 
Then  he  bowed  coldly  and  went  out. 

Lucy,  realizing  the  situation,  uttered  a  cry  and 
attempted  to  rise,  but  once  again  overcome  with 
weakness,  fell  back  with  the  same  marble  paleness 
upon  her  brow, 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  107 


VII. 

Mr.  Denison's  funeral  had  already  taken  place 
some  weeks.  Nearly  every  day  Lucy  had  been  seen 
dressed  in  deep  mourning,  crossing  to  New 
Jersey.  In  her  firm  serious  face  decision  showed 
itself  as,  hour  after  hour  she  bent  over  big 
ledgers,  separating  debts  from  assets,  while  the 
bookkeeper  stood  by  her  side  to  offer  her  any 
assistance  in  his  power. 

After  a  long  and  searching  examination,  it 
became  evident  that  the  firm  need  not  absolutely 
declare  itself  insolvent,  since  the  great  banking 
house  in  Wall  Street  whose  reported  failure  had 
brought  the  catastrophe  to  the  Denison  house 
hold,  had  recovered  itself,  thanks  to  a  favorable 
turn  in  the  stock-market,  and  promised  to  reim 
burse  all  its  creditors. 

The  Martin  family,  after  all  the  severe  trials 
it  had  undergone  in  New  York,  had  moved  back 
to  New  Jersey.  Through  the  proved  usefulness 
of  old  Martin,  who  now  labored  with  redoubled 


108  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


eagerness  to  produce  new  and  unheard  of  com 
binations  of  color,  the  prestige  of  the  factory, 
which  had  sunk  low  in  the  silk  market,  now  began 
to  rise  again  to  its  former  height. 

Lucy  and  her  mother,  selling  their  fine  house 
on  Fifth  Avenue,  had  also  moved  to  New  Jersey, 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  works,  since  Lucy  insisted 
upon  superintending  everything  herself.  She 
trembled  with  impatience  and  joy  when  Eugene's 
fair  curly  head  was  seen  approaching  the  house. 

On  the  expiration  of  her  year  of  mourning  she 
gave  her  hand  to  the  man  to  whom  her  heart  has 
long  been  given. 

The  happy  couple  spent  their  honeymoon  in 
Italy.  The  high  ideals  which  had  once  inflamed 
the  young  painter's  heart,  and  later  had  threaten 
ed  to  die  out  in  comfortless  annihilation,  were  des 
tined  at  last  to  take  shape,  and  to  stand  before  his 
enchanted  eyes  in  all  their  beautiful  reality.  At 
last  he  was  able,  hand  in  hand  with  his  beloved, 
to  admire  the  art  treasures  of  Borne,  the  Vatican, 
with  its  immortal  paintings  by  Eaphael,  Michael 
Angelo  and  Paul  Veronese.  All  that  they  had 
long  known  through  copies  and  engravings  were 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  109 


now  before  them  in  the  original,  and  filled  them 
with  delight. 

Eugene  availed  himself  of  the  permission 
given  to  artists  three  days  in  the  week  to  make 
copies  in  the  Vatican  galleries.  Standing  at  their 
easels,  Eugene  and  Lucy  painted  side  by  side,  as 
they  had  once  done  at  the  Art  School,  with  un 
bounded  happiness  beaming  in  their  eyes.  Among 
the  masterpieces  which  represented  the  highest 
ideals  of  art,  Lucy  realized  more  and  more  with  a 
palpitating  heart,  the  omnipotence  of  true  love. 


THE  STREET  SINGER 


THE  STREET  SINGER 
A  VIENNESE  STORY 


Winter,  hard  and  merciless  as  a  tax  collector, 
stalked  threateningly  before  the  dilapidated  doors 
of  Vienna's  poor. 

Back  of  the  white  Tanneries,  not  far  from  the 
magnificently  built  Franz  Josef's  bridge,  where 
misery  and  dire  poverty  had  made  their  dreary 
home  for  many  decades,  winter  seemed  harder  and 
colder  than  elsewhere ;  for  with  the  poor  wretched 
creatures  who  dwell  near  these  Tanneries,  there  is 
— as  everybody  knows — but  little  sympathy. 

A  sweet-looking  girl,  hardly  fourteen  years  of 
age,  came  shivering  with  bent  head,  out  of  one 
of  the  poorest  and  dirtiest  homesteads  of  the 
poverty-stricken  district. 

Her  thin,  threadbare  gingham  dress,  torn  in 
many  places,  exposed  here  and  there  the  trem 
bling  little  form  beneath.  Over  it  she  wore  an  old, 
shabby-looking  plaid  sjaawl — apparently  her  moth- 


114  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


er's — which  blown  back  now  and  again  by  the  un 
ceremonious  wind,  exposed  to  view  an  old  violin. 
She  held  it  as  tight  as  if  it  were  the  only  earthly 
treasure  she  possessed.  A  ribbon,  that  had  once 
been  blue,  held  up  her  knotted  hair,  and  gave  her 
the  appearance  of  a  gipsy.  And  as  for  her  shoes, 
it  would  seem  that  only  the  upper  part  had  pre 
served  a  right  to  the  name;  for  her  stiff -frozen 
little  toes  were  almost  on  the  ground. 

She  walked  on  and  on,  greatly  oppressed,  giv 
ing  no  heed  to  the  cruel  wind  that  played  havoc 
with  her  fluttering  curls.  Her  large  black  eyes, 
which  held  a  singular  fascination  in  their  spark 
ling  depths,  were  now  filled  with  burning  tears. 

She  was  barely  on  the  threshold  of  girlhood, 
but  life  in  its  unfathomable  savagery,  had  already 
thrown  its  challenging  gauntlet  in  her  frightened, 
childish  face.  She  felt  instinctively  that  poor 
little  outcast  as  she  was,  she  must  not  shrink  from 
battle,  but  struggle  on  as  best  she  could  either 
with  cruel  wind  and  weather  or  with  bitter  cold 
and  want. 

She  had  struggled  bravely,  never  minding  how 
fruitless  her  little  efforts  seemed.  But  the  one 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  115 


thing  to  which  she  had  never  accustomed  herself, 
and  which  made  a  storm  of  tears  rain  down  her 
pale  face,  was  the  frightful  apparition  of  the  hol 
low-eyed  skeleton,  hunger — that  hunger  which 
now  held  sway  over  her  sick  mother's  house. 

A  heavy,  shuddering  sigh  broke  from  her 
lips.  The  utter  need  and  helplessness  of  her  moth 
er  and  four  smaller  sisters,  for  days  deprived  of 
all  necessaries  of  life,  even  of  bread  to  satisfy  their 
hunger,  had  driven  her  from  the  house,  their  cries 
and  lamentations  still  ringing  in  her  ears. 

"Poor  and  friendless,  with  no  one  to  care  for 
us,  and  poor,  dear  mother  lying  ill,"  she  moaned 
in  a  suffocating  voice,  wiping  tears  of  agony  from 
her  white  face.  "It  wrings- my  heart  to  see  her 
and  the  little  ones  so  hungry,"  she  said  to  herself, 
sobbing  aloud. 

Near  the  Franz  Josef's  bridge  she  saw  a  little 
tavern.  She  timidly  opened  the  door  and  entered, 
quickly  producing  the  old  violin.  The  instrument 
was  the  only  bequest  of  her  dear  father,  who  had 
been  a  musician,  and  who  had  instructed  her  in  this 
art,  detecting  at  an  early  age  her  ardent  love  of 
study  and  thirst  for  a  musical  education. 


116  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


Standing  near  the  open  door,  she  first  played 
an  obligate  which  she  executed  in  masterly  fash 
ion,  and  then  commenced  to  sing  an  old  German 
song,  so  touchingly — knowing  what  was  at  stake — 
that  the  people  in  the  tavern,  and  many  passers-by 
who  stopped  in  amazement  at  the  door,  gazed  with 
wondering  eyes  at  the  ragged  little  dark-eyed  girl 
hardly  grown  out  of  her  baby  shoes ;  and  many  of 
them,  moved  by  deep  pity,  though  poor  them 
selves,  tossed  one,  and  some  of  them  two  coins 
into  her  apron.  More  they  could  not  afford  to 
give,  lest  their  liberality  might  eventually  expose 
them  to  the  same  plight. 

Christine  beamed  with  happiness.  When  her 
song  was  finished,  she  quickly  took  out  of  her 
apron  her  gathered  treasure,  counting  it  with 
shining  eyes.  Twenty  kreutzers — she  counted 
them  again  and  again.  Her  stiff  little  fingers 
could  not  hold  all  at  once,  but  her  eyes,  wet  with 
happy  emotion,  were  fastened  on  each  of  them, 
and  her  heart  leaped  within  her  at  the  sight.  So 
many  she  had  never  before  earned. 

She  folded  her  hands  as  if  in  fervent  prayer, 


'HERE,  MISS,  i  AIN'T  GOT  NO  MONEY,  BUT  I'D  LIKE 

TER    GIV    YER    THEM    SHOES." 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  117 


and  lifted  her  dark  eyes  to  Heaven  in  gratitude, 
thinking  of  the  joy  she  would  bring  to  her  mother 
and  half-starved  sisters  when  she  returned  home 
with  an  apron-full  of  fresh  baked  rolls. 

"Say, — Miss — won't  ye  let  me  carry  yer — 
fiddle!" 

The  whisper  sank  into  her  ear.  She  turned 
hastily  around,  and  saw  a  poorly-dressed  shoe 
maker's  apprentice  standing  near,  gazing  at  her 
with  his  large  blue  eyes.  In  his  hands  he  held  an 
old  pair  of  shoes. 

He  stood,  quite  silent,  with  enthusiasm  for 
Christine's  exquisite  singing  beaming  from  every 
feature.  Presently,  with  a  timid  grin,  he  held  out 
the  pair  of  shoes. 

"Here,  Miss.  I  ain't  got  no  money,  but  I'd 
like  badly  ter  give  you  them  shoes — er — ter  show 
you  that  I  like  good  singing.  Yes,  I  do,  an'  ye 
sing  mighty  well,"  he  said,  looking  admiringly  at 
her  and  getting  as  red  in  the  face  as  an  over-ripe 
apple.  "I'll  surely  get  a  good  cuff  or  two  from 
master  for  giving  them  away,  but  a  shoemaker's 
boy  is  used  to  that,  and  doesn't  care  a  rap  if  once 
in  a  while  he  takes  a  good  piff,  paff,  pouff!" 


118  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


With  this  exclamation  of  Meyerbeerian  bravado, 
he  demonstrated  the  operatic  knowledge  of  an  up- 
to-date  Viennese  apprentice. 

Christine  looked  at  him  with  shining  eyes. 
She  understood  only  one  thing — that  he  wanted 
to  give  her  a  pair  of  shoes,  which,  in  her  estima 
tion  seemed  almost  new.  She  beamed  at  him  so 
gratefully  with  her  large,  dark  eyes,  that  the  em 
barrassed  apprentice,  who  was  about  two  years 
older  than  she,  felt  a  hot  wave  running  down  his 
spine.  Never  had  a  lovelier  face  or  sweeter  eyes 
smiled  so  kindly  at  the  bewildered  boy. 

"  They  're  yourn,  an' — ye'd  better  try  'em  on 
— an'  see  if  they'll  fit,"  he  stammered  bashfully. 
This  strange,  heavenly  shyness  was  a  new  sensa 
tion  for  the  rough  apprentice  lad.  Until  this 
moment  he  had  never  known  that  there  existed 
such  an  organ  as  a  palpitating  heart  within  his 
body. 

And  before  Christine  knew  how,  the  new  shoes 
were  on  her  feet.  Shoes  without  holes!  Good 
ness  !  how  could  it  have  happened  ?  And  without 
holes ! 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  119 

"I  hope  I  am  not  dreaming,"  slie  murmured 
to  herself,  her  face  aglow. 

"Will  ye  let  me  go  with  ye?"  asked  the  simple- 
hearted  boy,  his  eyes  downcast. 

"No — not  now;  but — on  Sunday  you  can 
come." 

"To  yer  house?  My  name  is  Peter,"  he  re 
plied,  greatly  bewildered,  as  he  could  not  think — 
to  save  his  soul — of  anything  more  important 
than  his  name. 

"Yes,  to  my  house;  and  then  you  can  go  with 
me  and  carry  the  violin,"  Christine  answered 
with  a  sweet  smile.  But  suddenly,  ashamed  of  her 
boldness,  she  stopped  and  counted  her  kreutzers 
again. 

Peter,  however,  looked  at  her  with  such  ad 
miration  in  his  big  blue  eyes,  that  something  like 
an  electric  spark  shot  through  her.  Such  a  happy 
sensation  she  had  never  felt ;  for  no  one  had  ever 
spoken  such  kind,  encouraging  words  to  her.  A 
tinge  of  red  leaped  into  her  pale  cheeks;  there 
was  a  trembling  pant  in  her  voice,  when,  with 
averted  face,  she  told  him  the  street  and  number. 


120  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


Tucking  her  violin  under  her  arm,  she  ran  quickly 
up  the  street. 

At  the  nearest  bakery  she  stopped  in  order  to 
buy  the  coveted  rolls.  But  Peter,  still  under  the 
charm  of  her  large,  expressive  eyes,  stood  as  if 
rooted  to  the  ground,  gazing  after  her  and  listen 
ing  to  the  receding  tap-tap  of  the  little  shoes  on 
her  feet,  which  he  now  realized  belonged  to  some 
one  else.  He  began  to  dread  the  expected  pun 
ishment,  which  he  knew  would  be  meted  out,  not 
so  much  in  curtain  lectures  as  in  striking  actions, 
and  for  some  time  he  stood  stock  still,  racking  his 
brain  for  an  excuse  to  make  their  singular  disap 
pearance  plausible.  But  his  natural  light-heart- 
edness  soon  got  the  better  of  him.  Shrugging 
his  shoulders,  and  singing  "Piff,  paff,  pouff, 
brennet  sie,"  he  rushed  away,  ready  to  meet  his 
inexorable  fate. 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  121 


II. 


"Goodness!  you  haven't  eaten  anything  all 
day  long,  and  I  bet  you're  feeble,"  cried  Mrs. 
Langohr,  the  next-door  neighbor  of  Christine's 
mother,  throwing  the  door  of  her  miserable  two- 
room  apartment  wide  open,  so  that  all  the  neigh 
bors  should  hear,  and  praise  her  charitable  incli 
nations.  "0,  my  God,  have  mercy  on  them  poor 
little  worms !  I  must  go  and  make  a  little  farina 
soup  for  'em.  See,  that's  what  I  am  getting  out 
of  the  Bible !  Be  good  to  yer  neighbor,"  she  said 
in  a  loud  tone,  apparently  for  the  benefit  of  the 
poorly-clad  and  shy-looking  women  at  the  win 
dows. 

< « 0,  holy  Father  in  Heaven !  Just  look  here, ' ' 
she  screamed,  amazed  when  Christine  suddenly 
appeared  with  twenty  hot  rolls  in  her  apron,  show 
ing  them  triumphantly  to  the  neighbors.  And 
rushing  into  the  apartment,  she,  with  a  gladdened 
heart,  distributed  them  among  the  starving 
children. 


122  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


The  feeble  mother  with  eyes  full  of  tears, 
glancing  thankfully  toward  Heaven,  listened  to 
Christine's  wonderful  story  about  the  shoes  and 
the  twenty  kreutzers.  It  seemed  incredible.  So 
much  happiness  in  one  day!  And  Christine's 
beautiful  smile  seemed  to  fill  the  squalid  room 
with  radiance  when  she  thought  of  Sunday  and  the 
expected  arrival  of  the  shoemaker's  bashful  boy. 

Her  happiness  increased  day  by  day;  for 
every  Sunday  Peter  punctually  arrived,  always 
bringing  some  unusual  delicacies  with  him,  and  ac 
cepting  gladly  Christine's  consent  to  carry 
the  violin.  In  fact,  he  carried  it  with  such  dignity 
and  pride,  that,  standing  behind  her,  it  often 
happened  that  he  bowed  his  acknowledgment  to 
the  audience  at  the  end  of  each  morceau,  quite  as 
if  he  were  her  partner  and  one  of  the  performing 
artists.  Then  he  would  take  his  old  cap  and  gath 
er  the  contributions,  always  returning  them  faith 
fully  to  Christine.  Every  piece  of  wood  that  he 
could  deftly  worm  out  of  his  mistress '  household, 
he  carried  to  Mrs.  Miller,  Christine's  mother,  to 
warm  the  chilled  little  limbs  of  her  starving  chil 
dren. 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  123 


His  mistress,  the  shoemaker's  wife,  often 
wondered  that  the  cooked  potatoes  disappeared 
from  the  dinner  table  as  suddenly  as  if  the  earth 
had  swallowed  them  up.  She  certainly  could  not 
imagine  that  they  invaribly  disappeared  into 
Peter's  side-pockets  although  his  occasional 
grimaces  and  the  red  spots  on  his  sensitive  skin 
bore  open  testimony. 

"Now,  now,  goodness!  what's  the  matter  with 
you,  rascal!"  the  surprised  mistress  would  cry, 
viewing  amazedly  his  distorted  face.  And  one 
day,  in  spite  of  his  Spartan  heroism,  Peter  could 
not  stand  it  any  longer. 

"I  am  sick — stomach-ache — "  he  stammered, 
vainly  trying  to  compose  himself,  and  even  forc 
ing  a  sickly  smile  to  his  pale  lips. 

"You  grown-up  earthworm,  you!  The  idea  of 
having  stomach-ache  every  day  at  this  time ! ' '  she 
responded  angrily,  adding  a  few  choice  words  out 
of  her  voluminous  vocabulary.  But  being  not  bad 
at  heart,  sympathy  soon  gained  the  upper  hand, 
and  she  said  in  a  milder  tone,  giving  him  a  small 
coin  with  a  gesture  indicative  of  large  liberality — 


124  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


"Here,  you  stupid  nuisance,  you!  Go  and  get  a 
penny's  worth  of  English  bitters." 

Peter  did  not  require  a  second  command  to 
leave  the  room.  He  took  the  hint  and  the  penny 
and  went  straight. to  Christine's  house.  But  once 
outside,  and  in  respectable  distance  from  his  mis 
tress'  observing  eyes,  he  quickly  removed  the  red- 
hot  potatoes  from  his  pant's  pockets. 

Peter  had  always  been  accustomed  to  save  the 
tips  that  he  received  from  his  master's  patrons 
when  he  carried  home  their  shoes — chiefly  for 
Sunday  nights,  that  he  might  enjoy  a  seat  in  the 
last  gallery  at  the  theatre.  And  my!  hadn't  he 
been  proud  and  happy  when  sitting  there  in  his 
best  well-worn  suit,  and  hearing  those  wonderful 
songs,  "Belle  Helene,"  in  Oppenbach's  toneful 
operetta,  and  others  which  he  could  not  get  out  of 
his  head  for  months. 

Sometimes,  if  he  had  any  money  left,  he  would 
indulge  in  such  luxuries  as  a  half  herring  and  a 
glass  of  Pilsner,  being  a  great  gourmand.  But 
since  he  had  come  to  know  Christine,  everything 
seemed  to  have  changed.  He  no  longer  went  to 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  125 


the  theatre,  but  saved  all  his  tips,  and  went  about 
as  if  a  secret  were  hidden  in  his  breast. 

"Oh,  Mrs.  Langohr,"  cried  Christine's  moth 
er,  one  cold  morning  to  her  next-door  neighbor. 
"Don't  laugh,  for  it  is  true.  Peter  has  bought  a 
dress  for  Christine,  a  winter  dress,  just 
imagine ! ' ' 

Mrs.  Langohr  held  up  her  hands  in  amaze 
ment.  But  it  was  really  true.  Peter  had  bought 
Christine,  with  his  savings,  a  warm  dress,  at  a 
second-hand  store.  Christine  was  beside  herself 
with  joy;  she  had  never  known  in  these  days  what 
it  was  to  have  a  warm  rag  on  her  back,  and  her 
gratitude  welled  up  and  overflowed  in  her  spark 
ling  eyes. 

As  Christmas-time  gradually  approached, 
Mrs.  Miller,  feeling  much  better  in  health,  com 
menced  to  perform  her  household  duties.  But 
Christine's  earnings  from  her  singing  and  violin 
diminished  as  the  holidays  drew  near,  and  the 
simple  little  income  seemed  about  to  vanish 
altogether.  Even  Peter's  pour-boire  money 
threatened  to  cease,  causing  him  restless  nights 


126  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


and  much  down-heartedness.  This  discouraging 
condition  of  things  took  all  his  former  desire  for 
playing  pranks  out  of  the  formerly  gay-spirited 
shoemaker's  boy. 

And  when  pious  processions  of  tired  pilgrims 
passed  through  the  streets  of  Vienna,  singing  and 
praying  on  their  way  to  church,  he  no  longer 
played  any  of  his  old  mischievous  tricks  on  them, 
but  took  off  his  hat  devoutly,  and  marched  along, 
praying  with  folded  hands  and  wet  eyes. 

"Blessed  Virgin — be  good  to  her — I  pray  to 
thee — but  not  for  myself — no;  only  for  Christine 
— she  lives  under  the  white  Tanneries — only  for 
her  I  pray ! ' ' 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  127 


III. 


A  chilling  north  wind  whistled  through  the 
deserted  streets  of  the  Austrian  metropolis,  and 
the  snow,  towering  mountain  high,  driven  by  the 
gale,  whirled  blindingly  around  the  muffled,  shiv 
ering  pedestrians,  hastening  hurriedly  to  their 
respective  homes. 

The  Franzenering,  where  the  Viennese  aristo 
crats  are  accustomed  to  meet  in  the  afternoon 
hours,  to  drink  tea,  consume  little  cakes  and  in 
dulge  in  gay  conversations,  to-day  was  totally 
empty.  No  one,  it  seemed,  had  ventured  to  brave 
the  storm,  in  spite  of  the  attractive  display  in  the 
show-windows  of  elegantly  designed  gowns  and 
hats.  And  these  same  show  windows  were  cer 
tainly  remarkable,  for  all  adornments  dear  to  the 
feminine  heart,  wonderful  achievements  of  unusual 
millinery  effects,  dazzled  the  eyes  of  both  young 
and  old. 

Christine,  holding  her  violin  with  stiffened 
little  fingers,  stood  pale  and  trembling  before  one 


128  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


of  the  most  magnificent  windows,  speechless  with 
wonder,  gazing  as  if  in  a  trance  at  this  modern 
splendor  of  feminine  attire,  the  like  of  which  she 
had  never  conceived  even  in  her  wildest,  most 
fantastic  dreams. 

Her  heart  contracted  painfully.  She  thought 
of  her  mother  and  little  sisters,  freezing,  half- 
starved,  hopelessly  expectant  of  Christmas,  and 
her  glorious  eyes  blurred  with  tears,  as  she  re 
membered  that  she,  as  the  bread-winner  of  the 
family,  was  not  able  to  buy  them  anything  for 
Christmas,  not  even  bread  enough  to  satisfy  their 
hunger.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life,  she  could 
not  think  of  God  and  Heaven  without  bitterness 
for  it  seemed  that  he  had  indeed  forsaken  her  and 
her  family. 

''0  God,  I  thought  I  was  doing  my  best,"  she 
stammered  with  burning  tears  running  down  her 
blanched  face.  ''What  have  we  done,  that  we  of 
all  others,  should  die  of  hunger?"  The  future 
stretched  before  her  inner  vision,  a  weary  blank, 
lit  by  no  ray  of  hope.  Convulsively,  she  clutched 
the  old  violin,  and  wandered  away,  farther  and 
farther  into  the  raging  storm,  drifting  wherever 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  129 


the  wind  blew,  without  aim  and  without  purpose 
or  hope. 

The  north  wind  in  its  increasing  fury,  com 
menced  to  batter  tin  roofs,  chimney-tops,  blinds, 
awnings,  flag-poles,  as  if  a  giant  hand  were  at 
work,  while  odds  and  ends  of  debris  fell  crashing 
into  the  streets  to  bury  themselves  in  the  drifts. 
Those  unfortunates  who  were  compelled  to  brave 
the  elements,  fought  their  way  onward  like  wild 
beasts,  cursing,  shouting  and  screaming  aloud. 

Half-frozen,  nearly  blinded  by  the  storm  and 
the  hail  that  cut  her  delicate  face  like  a  knife, 
Christine  suddenly  found  herself  before  the  open 
portal  of  a  palatial  house.  Driven  by  a  momen 
tary  impulse  for  shelter  from  the  cold,  penetrat 
ing  blast,  she  entered.  At  once  a  ray  of  hope  il 
lumined  her  desolate  face.  Now,  if  she  were  to 
try  once  more,  and  sing  for  these  rich  people, 
warm  and  comfortable  behind  those  windows! 

Quickly  she  withdrew  her  violin  from  its  bat 
tered  case,  and  began  in  quivering  tones  to  sing 
the  Lorelei  her  father  had  taught  her,  before  any 
one  was  aware  of  her  presence.  The  wonderful 
tones  of  her  high  soprano  rang  through  the  state- 


130  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


ly  mansion,  vibrating  clear  and  penetrating  all  the 
rooms. 

"Here,  here,  the  impertinence!"  cried  the  ir 
ritated  porter,  jumping  out  of  his  porter's  lodge, 
pale  with  anger,  and  pointing  to  a  sign  conspicu 
ously  hanging  in  the  entrance  of  the  spacious 
porte-cochere.  "How  dare  you,  mean  little  bag 
gage,  you!  Can't  you  see  that  beggers  and 
organ-grinders  are  not  allowed  to  enter  here? 
Heh!  screaming  at  the  top  of  her  voice  in  such 
weather!  Get  out!  get  out!  quick!  march!"  His 
tone  was  sneering,  and  his  lips  curled  contemptu 
ously  as  he  waved  his  hand  disdainfully  for  her 
to  leave  the  courtyard. 

Greatly  frightened  and  trembling  in  all  her 
frozen  little  limbs,  Christine  was  about  to  obey, 
and  covered  her  violin,  timidly  looking  at  the 
porter's  ugly  red  face,  when  suddenly  a  window 
on  the  first  floor  was  flung  open.  The  elegant 
form  of  a  middle-aged  man,  with  gold-rimmed 
eye-glasses,  leaning  out  of  the  window,  gave  the 
porter  so  imperious  a  command  to  withdraw  at 
once,  that  the  startled  man,  hardly  daring  to  lift 
his  eyes  to  this  illustrious  personage,  retired 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  131 


with  many  a  bob  and  scrape  to  his  porter's  lodge. 

Christine,  greatly  encouraged  by  this  incident, 
and  anxious  to  use  the  opportunity,  began  to  sing 
anew ;  for  she  thought  that  if  she  won  the  favor  of 
the  man  at  the  window,  it  must  surely  mean  help 
for  her  sorely-tried  family.  So  she  sang  the 
Lorelei  again — sang  overpoweringly  those  lovely, 
mystic  notes — "Das  hat  mit  threm  singen  die 
Lorelei  gethan." 

The  superb  sound  burst  forth  from  the  little 
shivering  form,  rocked  here  and  there  by  the  rag 
ing  storm,  and  seemed  to  breathe  the  longings 
and  distress  of  a  pure  childish  soul.  This  piteous 
appeal  for  help  through  the  medium  of  Listz's 
greatest  legendary  love-song,  was  not  without  ef 
fect. 

"Superb — a  phenomenon — a  star!"  murmur 
ed  the  man  at  the  window  in  amazement.  He 
leaned  out  into  the  storm,  gazing  intently  at  the 
young  singer,  for  he  was  no  less  a  personage  than 
Duke  Holenlohe,  the  greatest  musical  critic  and  en 
thusiast  in  all  Vienna.  He  withdrew  from  the 
window,  closing  it  with  a  snap. 

Christine  was  speechless   with   joy,    and   her 


132  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


dark,  glowing  eyes  flashed  in  excited  bewilder 
ment  when  a  richly  liveried  butler  came  down  the 
stairs  into  the  courtyard,  handing  her  five  gulden 
and  demanding  her  address.  She  stood  there — 
her  face  flushed  with  wonder,  and  her  childish  lips 
parted  as  if  hearing  the  magic  music  of  another 
world.  Cyclones  of  wind,  thundering  waves  of 
ice  and  snow  were  forgotten.  Hope  had  entered 
her  heart,  and  with  the  five  gulden  clasped  tightly 
to  her  breast,  she  made  her  way  out  of  the  court 
yard,  past  the  porter's  lodge  into  the  street.  She 
hurried  along  as  best  she  could,  her  heart  singing 
a  holy  song  of  gratitude,  and  her  lips  smiling  at 
the  thought  of  the  happiness  she  was  bringing  to 
those  at  home.  The  last  part  of  the  way  she  ran 
and  burst  into  the  room  where  the  family  were 
huddled  over  a  few  half  dead  coals,  like  a  childish 
almoner  of  plenty,  stammering  out  her  tale. 

"It  must  have  been  the  Lord  holy,  Jesus 
Christ,  who  had  mercy  on  me  and  my  children," 
cried  the  invalid  mother,  trembling  with  excite 
ment,  and  folding  her  thin  hands  devoutly.  "0 
Lord,"  she  continued,  "most  mighty  and  most 
merciful  Saviour  of  all  the  widows  and  orphans, 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  133 


accept  the  lowly  thanks  of  a  poor  invalid."  She 
looked  up  to  Heaven  with  a  gladdened  heart  as 
she  saw  her  children  happy,  and  for  once,  well-fed. 
But  Christine  sat  in  a  corner  of  the  poorly 
furnished  room  as  if  in  a  dream.  A  vague,  con 
fused  remembrance  of  all  that  had  happened  in 
the  courtyard  filled  her  with  bewilderment.  The 
only  thing  she  really  saw  plainly  was  the  joyous 
faces  around  her,  the  result  of  her  gift — the  five 
gulden  she  had  received. 


134  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


IV. 


The  whole  neighborhood  was  in  an  uproar. 
A  score  of  tongues  were  wagging,  ears  were 
cocked  to  hear  the  news,  and  gesticulations  and 
cries  were  everywhere.  Even  the  invalids  of  the 
white  Tanneries  with  their  ridiculous  looking 
caps,  stretched  their  shaky  heads  out  of  the  win 
dows  in  order  to  listen  to  the  great  news  related 
by  Mrs.  Langohr,  the  wandering  gossip-monger 
of  this  poverty-stricken  district. 

"A  real  Count  has  heard  her  on  Christmas 
Eve,  you  say?" 

"A  Count!  Naw!  Something  higher  up, 
smarty,"  snapped  the  gossip-monger,  raising  her 
voice  to  a  shrill  pitch  and  throwing  herself  into 
the  proper  attitude  of  importance.  "It  was  a 
Duke  if  you  want  to  know  it.  Yes,  he  heard  her, 
and  yesterday  sent  his  carriage  for  her." 

"His  carriage!"  echoed  the  crowd,  and  fell 
back  amazed,  unwilling  to  trust  their  own  ears. 

"With  four    white    horses    attached    to    it," 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  135 


added  Mrs.  Langohr  with  a    triumphant    laugh. 
"A  girl  from  our  suburb,  imagine!" 

"Hump!  that's  a  greater  miracle  than  the 
stories  of  the  returning  Pilgrims  from  Rome," 
sniffed  an  old,  wrinkled  woman,  shaking  her  ludi 
crously  shaped  head  with  a  certain  vehemence 
and  "soit  disant"  dignity  which  eminently  befit 
ted  one  enjoying  the  reputation  of  the  female 
Socrates  of  the  suburb. 

The  nightcaps  at  the  windows  commenced  to 
shake  visibly,  and  a  heated  argument  of  possible 
reasons  for  this  exciting  event  followed. 

"What  will  he  do  with  her?"  asked  the  female 
Socrates  with  solemnity,  wiping  each  wrinkle 
separately  with  a  dubious-looking  red  handker 
chief,  a  sign  that  she  intended  to  cross-examine 
everybody  rigidly. 

"What  he — the  Duke  will  do  I  He  will  make 
a  great  singer  out  of  her,  smarty,"  sneered  the 
next-door  neighbor,  disappearing  quickly  indoors, 
to  the  great  disappointment  of  the  neighbors  who 
had  gathered  for  the  purpose  of  hearing  the  great 
news  at  first  hand  with  all  the  details. 

"A  great  singer?"  asked  the  shaky  nightcaps 


136  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


at  the  windows,  with  dubious  smiles,  ignorant  of 
what  had  gone  before,  and  looking  in  blank  amaze 
ment  at  each  other.  * '  Who — who  is  he  I ' ' 

But  so  it  had  actually  happened. 

Christine  had  attracted  first  the  attention,  then 
the  interest  of  Duke  Hohenlohe,  and  had  been 
placed  in  the  Vienna  Conservatory  of  Music.  Here, 
as  a  protege  of  one  of  its  principal  patrons,  she 
was  being  carefully  instructed  by  the  most  promi 
nent  singing  teachers  of  the  institution,  and  mak 
ing  extraordinary  progress. 

But  poor  Peter!  He  had  become  so  downcast 
at  the  loss  of  his  little  friend,  that  he  cared  noth 
ing  for  even  the  merriest  of  his  former  pranks, 
and  spent  his  time  in  counting  the  days  until  he 
could  see  her  again.  He  had  promised  Christine 
before  she  had  gone  to  the  Conservatory,  to  help 
her  family  in  every  way  he  could,  and  what  Peter 
promised,  he  kept  faithfully.  But,  oh!  how  dear 
Christine  had  become  to  him — how  necessary  to 
his  very  existence!  He  gladly  deprived  himself 
of  even  the  barest  necessities  of  life  in  order  to 
be  of  service  to  her  and  the  mother  and  sisters  she 
loved. 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  137 


Now — in  the  few  months  that  she  had  been  liv 
ing  near  the  Conservatory,  how  tall  and  beautiful 
she  had  grown,  and  what  depths  of  expression  lay 
in  her  dark,  speaking  eyes!  Goodness!  the 
simple-hearted  shoemaker's  boy  felt  his  heart 
leap  and  tremble,  when  he  dared  to  look  into  their 
sparkling  wells  of  light,  they  followed  him 
whether  he  waked  or  slept. 

He  saw  them  in  his  grimy  little  shop,  talked 
to  them  when  he  was  sewing  on  buttons,  or  knock 
ing  vigorously  at  the  hard,  unresponsive  leather, 
and  smiled  happily  at  the  visionary  picture  al 
ways  before  his  mind's  eye,  to  the  great  astonish 
ment  of  his  observing  mistress. 

So  five  years  sped  by — five  years  which  seemed 
five  eternities  to  Peter's  love-sick  heart.  But 
these  five  years  had  developed  the  pretty,  sad- 
eyed  girl  into  a  beautiful,  graceful  woman,  with  a 
clever  vigorous  intellect,  and  an  ambition  to 
reach  the  highest  eminence  within  the  grasp  of 
true  womanhood  and  constant  endeavor  in  the 
world  of  song. 

So  there  was  but  little  time  to  give  poor  Peter, 
as  her  approaching  debut  was  near,  and  Christine 


138  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


studied  night  and  day,  with  tireless  energy,  the 
important  roles  which  she  would  be  expected  to 
portray. 

In  the  meantime,  dark  clouds  were  gathering 
on  the  horizon  of  the  Austrian  monarchy.  Rebel 
lion  after  rebellion  broke  out  on  the  southern 
frontier  of  its  vast  dominions,  and  Peter,  now  of 
age,  was  enlisted  as  a  soldier,  and  sent  away  to 
the  centre  of  the  insurgent  provinces.  He  had  to 
march  with  his  regiment  in  the  darkness  of  the 
night  without  even  being  able  to  see  Christine  to 
utter  a  few  parting  words.  He  was  heart -broken, 
though  what  he  wanted  to  tell  her  was  not  known 
even  to  himself.  All  he  knew  was  that  he  loved 
her  dearly,  and  that  his  tortured,  love-sick  heart 
was  writhing  and  bleeding  at  the  thought  that 
months  and  months  would  pass  before  he  could 
again  set  eyes  on  her  slender,  graceful  figure,  and 
lovely  smiling  face. 

The  ensuing  scenes  of  war  and  bloodshed  sick 
ened  him;  but  Christine's  hallowed  picture,  al 
ways  with  him,  gave  him  strength  to  withstand  all 
horrors.  She  appeared  as  the  radiant  star  of  his 
life,  and  he  was  guided  in  his  loneliness  by  the 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  139 


single  hope  of  seeing  her  again.  Perhaps  the  ig 
norant  simple  lad  covered  his  face  and  wept — 
wept  tears  of  despair  and  joy  in  anticipating  that 
inexpressible  happiness  which  the  future  might 
hold  in  store. 


140  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


V. 


To  the  music-loving  public  of  Vienna,  first 
nights  and  debuts  of  promising  students  are 
great  events,  especially  when  the  aspirants  for 
musical  honors  come  from  the  home  conservatory, 
and  more  especially  when  a  certain  student  of  the 
conservatory  is  heralded  as  a  singer  with  a  phe 
nomenal  voice,  which  she  will  display  in  the  fam 
ous  role  of  Lucia  di  Lammermoor. 

So  it  was  that  long  before  the  doors  of  the  im 
posing  opera  house  were  opened,  eager  crowds  ex 
citedly  discussing  the  appearance  of  the  new  sing 
er,  stood  at  the  entrance  impatiently  awaiting  the 
hour.  And  before  the  portals  had  been  thrown 
open  half  an  hour,  the  great  house  was  filled  to 
suffocation. 

Many  of  the  Austrian  nobility  sat  in  their 
private  boxes,  and  those  persons  belonging  to  the 
aristocracy  occupied  seats  in  the  parterre  and,  in 
fact,  every  available  place.  The  people,  danger 
ously  crowding  the  galleries,  looked  in  open-eyed 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  141 


wonder  at  the  stage  where  Christine,  in  the  cos 
tume  of  Lucia  stood  trembling  with  shy  timidity. 
A  vague  terror  overshadowed  her  lovely  features. 
She  was  endeavoring  heroically  to  enter  into  her 
role,  but  the  sight  of  so  many  people,  whom  for 
the  first  time  she  saw  assembled,  and  the  count 
less  number  of  eager  eyes  riveted  on  her,  made 
her  dizzy.  She  lost  her  courage,  and  stood  there 
helpless  and  frightened  with  downcast  eyes,  un 
able  to  commence,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  ner 
vous  stage  manager  in  the  wings  had  already 
twice  given  her  the  cue. 

The  director  of  the  conservatory  stood  in  the 
wings  at  the  opposite  side  of  the  stage,  and  nodded 
encouragingly  to  her.  But  as  she  seemed  not  to 
see  him,  he  became  livid,  and  wrathfully  com 
menced  to  revile  himself  for  having  yielded  to  the 
temptation  of  bestowing  this  difficult  role  on  Duke 
Hohenlohe's  protege,  who  evidently  was  not  suffi 
ciently  trained  in  self-control  to  appear  as  an  in 
dependent  star. 

Just  at  the  decisive  moment,  however,  Duke 
Hohenlohe  entered  the  proscenium  box  and  smiled 
kindly  at  her.  Christine's  fiugers  closed  spasmod- 


142  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


ically  over  each  other.  She  perceived  at  last 
what  was  at  stake. 

With  eyes  full  of  tears,  she  controlled  herself 
by  a  superb  effort,  and  looked  up  at  him  as  if 
saying:  "You  may  trust  me.  I  shall  be  equal  to 
the  situation, ' '  and  then  she  began  to  sing,  at  first 
timidly  and  tremulously,  but  soon  carried  away 
by  the  grandeur  of  this  passionate  role,  she  sur 
passed  herself;  her  high  notes  echoed  through 
every  part  of  the  vast  opera  house  with  such  daz 
zling  magnificence,  that  an  uproarious  "Bravo,'* 
rang  vociferously  forth  from  thousands  of  voices, 
and  thousands  of  hands  applauded  wildly. 

And  when  she  had  rendered  the  great  bravura 
aria  in  the  second  act,  with  rare  perfection,  a  con 
tinuous  storm  of  applause  greeted  her.  Duke 
Hohenlohe  smiled  with  gratification.  He  was  in 
deed  proud  of  his  little  protege,  whom  he  had  dis 
covered  in  the  blinding  snow  storm. 

The  director  of  the  Conservatory,  still  stand 
ing  in  the  wings,  could  not  believe  his  eyes  and 
ears.  Christine  was  not  only  a  great  singer,  but 
she  had  proved  herself  a  great  actress.  The  man 
ner  in  which  she  had  portrayed  the  mad  Lucia  was 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  143 


an  immense  surprise.  Flowers  and  bouquets  of  all 
sizes  and  colors  flew  from  all  directions  upon  the 
young  debutante.  Curtseying  timidly,  her  lovely 
face  flushed  and  happy  beyond  description,  she 
looked  at  the  corner  in  the  second  gallery  where 
Mrs.  Miller  sat  praying  with  folded  hands,  as  if 
in  a  trance. 

"Mother — dear  Mother,"  she  murmured  to 
herself,  with  profound  humility,  and  disappeared. 

The  Duke  Hohenlohe  had  just  entered  the  im 
perial  box  where  sat  the  Emperor.  With  a  rever 
ential  bow,  and  a  look  of  great  satisfaction  on  his 
noble  face,  he  said  smilingly : 

"Your  Majesty,  it  was  I  who  discovered  the 
new  star." 

"Indeed?  Tell  me  how,"  responded  his 
Majesty,  greatly  interested. 

"I  happened  to  listen  to  her  singing  on  Christ 
mas  Eve.  She  stood  in  my  courtyard  with  an  old 
broken  violin  and  shivered  with  cold;  and  when 
she  sang  the  Lorelei,  the  snow  circled  around  her 
wretched  little  form.  It  was  a  pity." 

"Duke,  you  have  aroused  my  curiosity.  Can 
I—?" 


144  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


"See  her?  Oh,  your  Majesty — the  great 
honor —  she  will  be  overwhelmed,"  the  Duke  re 
plied,  bowing  deeply  as  he  withdrew  from  the  im 
perial  box. 

An  instant  later,  Christine,  greatly  confused 
and  flattered  by  the  request  of  the  Emperor,  stood 
in  his  presence  and  received  his  hearty  congratu 
lations.  As  if  in  a  dream  she  glanced  at  the 
second  gallery  where  her  mother  still  sat,  and 
wept  tears  of  joy.  The  Emperor  cordially  ex 
tended  his  royal  hand,  which  she  was  permitted  to 
kiss  before  retiring.  The  following  day  the  suc 
cess  of  the  new  star  as  Lucia  was  heralded  over 
the  city.  The  leading  journals  contained  long  ar 
ticles  about  her  magnificent  rendering  of  the  diffi 
cult  role,  and  the  beauty  of  her  voice,  at  the  same 
time,  complimenting  the  committee  of  directors  of 
the  Imperial  Opera  House  for  this  opportunity 
given  to  native  talent,  thus  making  an  exception 
to  the  general  rule  that  prophets  are  not  recogniz 
ed  in  their  own  country. 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  145 


VI. 


''Your  first  appearance  was  a  triumph  that 
will  live  in  the  memory  of  Vienna,  my  dear  Chris 
tine.  In  fact,  your  magnificent  rendering  of  a 
role  which  only  such  singers  as  Patti,  Sembrich 
and  Melba  have  attempted,  has  exceeded  all  ex 
pectations.  Candidly,  I  had  commenced  to  blame 
myself  for  having  yielded  to  the  wishes  of  Duke 
Hohenlohe,"  said  the  director  of  the  Conservatory 
with  a  radiant  smile,  as  he  entered  Christine's 
simple  four-room  apartment,  a  day  later.  "And 
I  am  most  glad  to  have  been  commissioned  by  the 
Board  of  Directors  to  offer  you  a  three  years'  con 
tract  with  a  suitable  salary — but,  my  dear  girl, 
what  is  the  matter  ? ' ' 

Christine  stood  before  him  pale  as  a  ghost.  A 
slight  tremor  shook  her  slender  frame,  her  eyes 
were  downcast  and  red  with  weeping.  She  stam 
mered  a  few  words  which  the  director  could  not 
understand. 

He  scrutinized  her  face  sharply,  being  wholly 


146  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


puzzled,  as  lie  endeavored  to  fathom  the  true 
cause  of  this  state  of  mind. 

"Pardon  me,  my  dear  girl,  if  I  express  my  sur 
prise.  I  hope  you  are  not  dissatisfied  with  your 
debut.  Why,  you  ought  to  be  singing  rhapsodies 
— be  filled  with  ambition  and  enthusiasm — after 
being  received  by  his  Majesty  and  complimented 
upon  your  remarkable  success." 

Without  replying,  her  lips  quivering  and 
dumb,  Christine  slowly  and  solemnly  opened  the 
door  of  the  adjacent  room.  A  mysterious,  oppres 
sive  something  seemed  to  fill  the  room  like  the 
shadow  of  death. 

In  the  centre  was  a  catafalque,  at  the  end  of 
which  stood  two  lighted  candles,  sputtering  light 
ly  like  the  last  feeble  shrieks  of  a  departing  soul. 
Near  the  catafalque,  on  a  small  pedestal,  rested 
the  picture  of  poor  Peter,  embedded  in  a  mass  of 
roses. 

The  autumn  sun,  shining  through  the  lilac  and 
myrtle  boughs  that  rustled  close  to  the  window, 
glinted  over  the  pure,  pale  face  of  the  singer. 
Mournfully,  her  tearful  eyes  sought  the  object  of 
her  deep  devotion.  On  a  black  velvet  cushion  near 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  147 


Peter's  picture,  stood  a  pair  of  old  shoes  sur 
rounded  by  jasmine  and  white  camelias.  A  ray 
of  sunshine  stealing  through  the  myrtle  leaves 
made  golden  ripples  on  the  shoes. 

Christine  pressed  her  hand  to  her  heart,  as  if 
beholding  that  scene  in  the  tavern  of  her  child 
hood  days.  "Not  yesterday,"  she  said  to  the 
director  in  a  trembling  voice — "not  yesterday, 
but  five  years  ago  I  made  my  debut  as  a  singer, 
when  I  earned  these  shoes  in  recognition  of  my 
singing — from  him — "  She  pointed  to  Peter's 
picture,  almost  overcome  by  emotion. 

"I  sympathize  most  keenly  with  you,  but  my 
dear  girl,  what  are  they?" 

"They  are  my  only  mementoes  of  my  dear 
friend  Peter,  who  lost  his  life  in  the  service  of  the 
Empire — the  first  victim  of  the  terrible  rebellion 
at  the  Southern  frontier.  She  stopped,  unable  to 
continue,  while  her  heart  contracted  painfully,  and 
big  tears  of  sympathy  and  love  for  the  shoe 
maker's  apprentice  trickled  down  her  blanched 

face. 

***** 

Christine  is  now  one  of  the  greatest  opera  stars 


148  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 

on  the  horizon,  and  her  sisters  are  following  in  her 
footsteps.  But  every  year  when  the  sad  day  of 
poor  Peter's  death  comes,  Christine,  clothed  all 
in  black,  goes  out  to  the  cemetery  with  flowers  in 
hand,  and  sits  for  hours  under  the  pure  white 
marble  obelisk  where,  in  gilded  letters ,  these 
words  are  traced: 

ERECTED  IN  HONOR  OF  PETER  STARK, 

By  his  devoted,  sorrowing  friend, 

CHRISTINE. 


CONCETTA 


CONCETTA 

AN  ITALIAN  NOVELETTE. 
I. 

Many  large  and  small  boats  were  dancing  mer 
rily  on  the  Bay  of  Castellamare,  so  richly  popul 
ous  with  many  rare  species  of  fish.  The  mirror- 
like  blue  surface  was  only  ruffled  by  the  small 
steamers  on  their  way  to  and  from  Sorrento, 
carrying  throngs  of  pleasure-seeking  tourists 
from  all  parts  of  the  world. 

On  the  right  hand  shore,  extended  on  a  high 
promontory  receding  a  little  from  the  shore, 
stands  peacefully  dreaming  and  forgotten,  by  the 
outer  world,  the  little  village  of  Vico  Ecquenso. 

The  innumerable  small  fishing  smacks  belong 
ing  to  the  villagers  ("paesani")  dot  the  bay  as 
far  as  Castellamare,  and  every  morning  they  make 
their  way  thither,  carrying  to  market  their  night 
ly  catches  of  tunny  fish,  anchovies  and  other  dumb 
subjects  of  Neptune. 

The  valleys,  perfumed  throughout  their  length 
with  odorous  herbs,  palms  and  gigantic  cactus  in 
wild  profusion,  change  their  character  a  little 


152  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


further  away,  by  taking  on  the  indescribable  charm 
of  the  picturesquely  draughted  olive  trees,  which 
often  slope  down  to  the  water's  edge,  while  on 
green  hillside  terraces  most  magnificent  grapes 
gleam  from  afar,  like  red  glittering  rubies  to  the 
eyes  of  the  delighted  tourist. 

On  the  left  side,  amid  palms  and  chestnut 
trees,  one  catches  a  glimpse  of  the  lifeless  unroof 
ed  ruins  of  Pompeii,  once  a  populous  city,  which 
was  overwhelmed  by  her  mighty  neighbor,  the  ter 
rible  Vesuvius  on  the  22nd  of  August  in  the  year 
79,  and  remained  under  ground  for  about  eighteen 
•centuries,  until  Charles  the  III  ordered  its  excava 
tion  on  the  1st  of  April,  1748.  Amid  all  these 
buried  treasures  of  art  of  long  perished  races, 
Seneca  had  spent  his  youth  and  Cicero  had  written 
his  biting  rhetorical  masterpieces,  which  earned 
him  a  sixteen  months'  banishment  from  the  court 
of  the  Emperor  Claudius,  whose  gigantic  statue 
of  Persian  marble,  in  the  robe  of  t '  Pontif  ex  Maxi- 

mus"  was  lately  excavated  at  Pesto. 

*  *  *  *  # 

The  high  mountains  were  already  casting 
long  shadows  through  the  little  village  of  Vico 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  153 


Ecquenso,  and  the  hot  evening  sun,  now  about  to 
sink  into  the  gently  splashing  waves,  gilded  with 
its  last  beams  the  weather-beaten,  centuries-old 
convent  of  Santa  Croce,  built  upon  a  high  summit 
on  green  hilltops. 

The  peaceful  sound  of  the  old  convent  bell, 
inviting  those  to  pious  meditations  and  evening 
prayer,  was  sounding  now  with  wondrous  sweet 
ness  over  land  and  sea,  even  as  far  as  the  desolate 
altars  of  the  heathen  Gods  of  Pompeii  tumbled 
down  from  their  gilded  pedestals,  and  the  shrunk 
en  mummies  in  the  "theatrum  tragico,"  where 
the  people  perished  without  the  help  of  the  heath 
en  gods,  listened  dumb  and  petrified, — the  sight 
less  eyes  wide  open, — to  the  sounds  of  the  new  re 
ligion  calling  them  again  and  again  morning  and 
evening.  The  vast  oppressiveness  of  the  ghostly 
solitude  there,  contrasted  strangely  with  the  un 
common  bustle  perceptible  that  evening  among  the 
simple  minded  inhabitants  of  the  quaint  little  vil 
lage,  who  usually  went  so  quietly  about  their  work. 

A  joyous  excitement  sparkled  in  the  eyes  of 
both  old  and  young,  who  had  assembled  in  front 
of  the  only  village  tavern,  "Osteria,"  to  witness 


154  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


the  approach  of  the  festal  procession  of  youth  and 
maidens  coming  home  from  the  vineyards,  laden 
with  baskets  of  grapes  and  flowers. 

The  wealthiest  man  in  the  place,  the  farmer 
Niccola  Gallioti,  who  had  just  before  devoutly  lit 
six  immense  wax  candles  in  honor  of  the  Holy  Ma 
donna,  was  today  giving  a  feast  to  the  young  peo 
ple  of  the  place.  The  ingathered  harvest  had  filled 
all  his  granaries  to  the  roofs  and  so  surpassed  all 
his  expectations  that  it  had  to  be  celebrated  with 
eating  and  drinking,  music  and  dancing.  An  hour 
before,  he  had  been  seen  walking  up  towards  the 
vineyards  at  the  side  of  his  beautiful  daughter, 
Concetta,  and  as  yet  there  was  no  sign  of  their 
return.  The  expecting  crowd  shuffled  up  and 
down  impatiently,  and  craned  their  necks. 

1  'There!  There!  Corpo  di  bacco!  they're 
coming  now, ' '  cried  a  small  bare-footed  lazzaroni, 
greatly  excited,  running  breathlessly  to  meet 
them,  and  vainly  trying  at  the  same  time  to  hold 
up  the  torn,  shapeless  breeches,  which  actually 
had  no  right  to  that  name.  They  were  fastened 
by  a  cord  on  the  top  and  reached  from  the  should 
ers  to  his  feet. 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  155 


All  the  inhabitants  of  the  village  seemed  to  be 
present,  and  pressed  forward  in  a  confused  mass, 
each  one  anxious  to  be  the  first  one  to  greet  the 
festal  train,  principally  Galiotti  the  liberal  host 
and  dispenser  of  the  best  wine. 

In  the  rear,  unobserved,  stood  a  man  of  about 
twenty-eight  years,  in  an  elegant  summer  suit,  ap 
parently  belonging  to  a  better  class,  looking 
sneeringly  at  the  great  excitement  of  the 
"Paesani." 

His  dark,  sparkling  eyes,  encased  in  blue- 
shaded  rings,  had  a  demoniacal  glitter.  He  was  a 
tall,  athletic  man,  with  a  constant  sneer  on  his  red 
lips.  The  fairly  chiseled  lineaments  were  blotted 
by  dissipation,  and  blackened  and  distorted  by  the 
baleful  fire  of  fierce  passions.  The  bushy  eye 
brows,  that  nearly  met  each  other,  were  of  the  kind 
to  exercise  an  uncanny  attraction  upon  trusting 
innocent  girls  by  looking  into  their  depths. 

The  distant  strains  of  three  gaily-clad  musi 
cians  with  fiddles  and  horns  seemed  to  electrify 
the  crowd.  The  ragged  youth  began  to  dance,  the 
old  paesani  threw  their  shabby  looking  caps,  in 
the  air,  while  the  little  barefooted  lazzaroni,  his 


156  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 

face  black  with  dirt,  ran  ahead  of  the  anxiously  ex 
pected  procession,  splitting  his  throat  with  shrill 
cries  of  "Ewiva,"  and  gesticulating  frantically. 

Only  the  tall  gentleman,  with  a  constant  sneer 
on  his  red  lips,  stood  apparently  unmoved  in  the 
same  place,  gazing  at  the  scene  enacted  before  his 
eyes  with  great  contempt.  Observing  him  at  close 
range  one  could  perceive,  in  his  dark  sinister  eyes, 
the  consuming  fire  of  a  sinful  passion,  a  volcanic 
fire  it  seemed,  like  that  which  rose  and  fell  on  the 
summit  of  the  neighboring  Vesuvius,  devastating 
in  its  destructiveness. 

He  had  seen  the  fair  Concetta  at  Castellamare 
for  the  first  time,  and  since  then  he  could  not  for 
get  her  lovely  face ;  day  and  night  it  haunted  him, 
that  merry,  mirthful  face  that  spoke  of  pure  maid- 
enliness.  The  sweetness  and  childlike  pureness  of 
the  girl's  exterior  attracted  him.  It  was  some 
thing  new  in  his  dissipated  life,  something  he  had 
to  conquer. 

Even  at  the  gaming  tables  of  Nice  and  Monte 
Carlo,  and  at  the  wild  orgies  carried  on  there  by 
the  dissipated  sons  of  nobility,  he  seemed  to  see 
her  standing  before  him,  smiling  sweetly,  while 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  157 


her  blue  innocent-looking  eyes  shone  at  him  like 
spotless  mirrors. 

After  a  short  time  he  had  discovered  that  she 
came  twice  a  week  to  Castellamare,  on  Mondays  in 
her  father's  fishing  boat,  while  on  Saturdays  in 
the  company  of  a  maid  carrying  stone  pitchers  to 
the  well, ' '  Stabilimento, ' '  where  six  different  heal 
ing  springs  gush  out  of  the  mountain  side.  When 
the  flames  on  top  of  the  Vesuvius  burst  forth 
vehemently  illuminating  Naples,  Castellamare  and 
all  other  little  hamlets  far  and  near  the  springs 
are  overflowing  with  boiling  water,  but  the  mo 
ment  the  flame  diminishes,  the  water  grows  cold 
and  gradually  disappears. 

The  young  rogue  made  good  use  of  these  days ; 
as  if  by  chance,  he  always  strolled  along  the  same 
path  to  the  springs.  If  it  rained,  he  was  prompt 
ly  at  hand  with  an  umbrella ;  if,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  sun  shone  down  oppressively  on  the  overheat 
ed  Concetta,  the  same  rescuer  in  need  was  at 
hand  again,  gallantly  offering  his  English  parasol, 
and  always  walking  a  little  further  with  her.  The 
sunny  nature  of  the  young  girl  shone  out  of  her 
splendid  blue  eyes,  bright  and  beaming  as  a  May 


158  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


morning.  She  trusted  every  one,  and  especially 
this  handsome  gentleman,  who  treated  her  always 
with  such  exquisite  courtesy,  as  if  she  had  been 
one  of  the  daughters  of  the  Lords  of  Torre  del 
Greco,  whom  she  saw  passing  on  the  Corso  di  San 
ta  Lucia,  either  on  horseback  or  in  a  luxurious  car 
riage.  Who  would  be  likely  to  have  any  evil  de 
signs  against  her?  Old  and  young  loved  her  in 
the  village,  and  the  poor  and  sick  had  learned  to 
bless  her  for  three  miles  round.  Having  grown 
up  in  her  village  home,  and  blossomed  there  like 
a  wild  rose,  she  had  only  known  one  great  sorrow 
in  her  young  life,  that  of  losing  her  beloved  moth 
er  when  she  was  very  young.  Her  merriment, 
her  happy  singing,  brightened  up  the  dark,  lonely 
house  of  the  gloomy  old  man. 

However,  since  she  had  made  the  acquaintance 
of  the  gentleman  with  the  ensnaring  eyes,  she  had 
changed  greatly.  She  was  often  lost  in  amaze 
ment — though  not  in  his  company,  but  when  alone 
in  her  little  bed-chamber,  where  the  observing 
eyes  of  her  anxious  father  could  not  watch  her. 

There  she  sat,  her  large  blue  eyes  staring  out 
of  the  window,  with  a  feeling  of  overflowing  joy, 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  159 


that  filled  her  heart,  a  feeling  she  could  not 
explain  to  herself,  especially  at  his  approach,  the 
violent  beating  of  something  within  her  that 
threatened  at  times  to  take  her  breath  away. 

"Mia  cara  Concetta,  I  love  you  madly,"  had 
he  not  long  since  whispered  in  her  ear.  He  has  said 
that  to  her,  the  common-place  daughter  of  the 
' '  Paesano ' '  Niccolo  Galliotto.  But  his  dark,  pas 
sionate-looking  eyes  made  her  tremble.  She  did 
not  know  why. 

"If  he  could  see  me  now  in  my  new  Sunday 
dress ! ' '  she  thought,  her  glance  sweeping  over  the 
crowd,  as  she  passed  along,  surrounded  by  all  the 
youths  and  maidens  of  the  village,  in  her  red  petti 
coat  and  bodice  of  black  silk,  with  snow  white 
muslin  sleeves.  "There!  Santissima  Madon 
na."  "He  is  waiting  for  me,"  she  whispered 
happily,  while  a  blush  brighter  than  the  red  silk 
of  her  dress  overspread  her  lovely  face. 

But  not  for  all  the  bunches  of  red  grapes  she 
was  so  fond  of  would  she  have  raised  her  eyes,  for 
fear  the  youths  and  maidens  might  have  read  in 
them  the  delight  of  her  heart  at  seeing  the  man 
she  loved  and  was  loved  by  such  a  man ! — the  vio- 


160  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


lent  beating  within  her  increased  at  this  thought. 
" Madonna!"  She  looked  at  the  soft  blue  sky  and 
the  waving  cactus  plants  in  the  distance.  Tears  of 
joy  filled  her  eyes,  while  the  golden  sunshine  filled 
every  nook  and  corner  in  Nature's  great  realm. 

Arriving  at  the  house,  she  found  the  maid 
busily  engaged  in  preparing  the  feast.  The  men 
were  beginning  to  place  large  tables  in  the  garden 
under  the  orange  trees.  Then  they  rolled  out 
large  casks  of  the  new  wine  from  the  cellar.  Con- 
cetta  had  just  put  on  her  apron,  busily  engaged  in 
carrying  out  a  tray  full  of  dishes  into  the  gaily 
decorated  garden,  when  the  door  burst  open.  Her 
father  stood  at  the  entrance,  with  his  cap  in  his 
hand,  bowing  reverentially  to  a  gentleman,  beg 
ging  him  to  honor  his  house  by  entering  and  par 
ticipating  in  the  general  frolic  of  the  day. 

A  loud  crash  was  heard.  Concetta  recognized 
him  at  once,  the  gentleman  with  the  ensnaring 
eyes,  and,  delighted  as  she  was,  had  dropped  the 
large  Sunday  tray,  with  all  the  special  dishes 
which  only  appeared  on  the  Sunday  table  for 
special  occasions.  She  was  startled  and  happy 
at  the  same  time,  and  hardly  heard  the  irate 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  161 

father's  words  of  blame.  The  voice  of  the  little 
lazaroni  was  heard  outside  singing  "Napoli 
Bella. ' '  She  looked  through  the  window,  and  San 
Francesco,  on  his  pedestal,  smiled  at  her.  She 
turned  about,  and  met  his  burning  glances.  Her 
cheeks  crimsoned;  she  was  in  a  confusion  when 
those  dark  fascinating  eyes  actually  followed  her 
wherever  she  went. 

He  sat  by  her  side  at  the  table,  calling  her, 
Concetta  Gallioti,  endearing  names,  and  squeezing 
her  hand  tenderly  whenever  the  father  was  not 
looking  in  their  direction.  And  when  she  found 
his  eyes  constantly  fastened  upon  her  face,  she 
felt  like  crying  and  laughing  at  the  same  time, 
thought  it  looked  as  if  she  were  even  too  shy  for 
that. 

Her  innocent  face  was  like  the  clear  water  of 
the  Spring  at  Castellamare.  He  observed  her 
closely,  knew  the  symptoms  and  smiled  malicious 
ly,  considering  it  an  auspicious  omen  in  his  well- 
tried  loving-making  scheme. 

The  evening  breezes  rose  and  sank  solemnly 
through  the  little  green  olive  trees  in  the  distance. 
The  tables  were  cleared  away,  the  meal  was  over 


162  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


and  the  three  grotesque  musicians,  who  had  been 
feasting  convivially,  were  sounding  their  instru 
ments  with  special  vigor.  The  dance  began.  All 
eyes  were  turned  on  Concetta,  as  she  opened  the 
rustic  ball  with  the  interesting  stranger  beneath 
the  orange  trees. 

Her  little  heart  felt  as  though  it  would  burst 
with  joy  in  the  consciousness  that  he  had  eyes  and 
ears  for  none  but  her,  and  scarcely  seemed  to  see 
the  most  renowned  beauties  of  the  village.  The 
whole  evening  he  danced  only  with  her — and  what 
things  he  whispered  in  her  ear !  Her  fair  cheeks 
still  clothed  themselves  in  red — and  the  more  they 
did  so,  the  more  eloquent  grew  his  lips  and  the 
more  terrifying  in  its  passion  his  burning  gaze. 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  163 


n. 


At  Torre  del  Greco,  in  his  dining-hall  with 
its  lofty  windows,  the  Baron  di  Pavichino  sat  at 
breakfast.  His  bushy  eyebrows  contracted  dark 
ly  when  the  long-expected  visit  of  his  nephew 
Luigi  was  announced  to  him. 

Luigi  di  Pavichino,  the  passionate  lover  of  the 
fair  Concetta,  now  entered  the  room,  pale  and 
weary-eyed.  For  four  days  he  had  not  been  seen 
in  the  Palazzo  di  Pavichino,  although  not  long  be 
fore  he  had  become  engaged  to  his  rich  cousin. 
The  fear  of  exposing  himself  to  her  displeasure 
now  brought  him  here,  after  changing  his  clothes 
for  a  little  more  formal  attire  than  that  in  which 
he  had  appeared  at  the  peasants'  festival,  to  ex 
plain  his  absence  by  a  plausible  story. 

"Per  Bacco!  Lucetta  was  looking  for  you  in 
vain  yesterday  and  the  day  before!"  began  the 
old  Baron  sternly,  plucking  at  his  gray  beard  in 
a  way  that  betokened  displeasure.  "If  you  are 
beginning  already  to  provide  such  disappoint- 


164  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


merits  for  your  future  wife,  my  dear  Luigi,  then 
it  would  possibly  be  more  sensible  to  call  the  en 
gagement  off  while  there  is  yet  time." 

Luigi  trembled  at  these  words  of  his  wealthy 
uncle.  In  fact,  this  marriage  was  his  only  plank 
of  salvation,  to  which  he  clung  with  desperate 
grasp  like  a  man  fighting  for  life  in  the  waves — 
to  which  he  must  cling  in  order  to  bring  any  order 
into  his  ruined  financial  position,  which  he  care 
fully  concealed  from  his  suspecting  uncle,  and 
which  had  to  be  retrieved  as  soon  as  possible. 

The  fact  that  the  estate  inherited  from  his 
father,  including  farms  and  factories,  was  mort 
gaged  up  to  the  last  cent,  would  have  been  suffi 
cient  to  jeopardize  his  relations  to  his  unattrac 
tive  but  richly-dowered  cousin.  He  knew  the  ver 
dict.  A  long-drawn  sigh  was  the  only  answer  he 
gave  to  himself,  and  besides,  there  was  his  in 
capability  of  meeting  his  notes  indorsed  by 
friends,  falling  due  within  a  short  time  for  con 
siderable  amounts  contracted  at  the  gaming 
table.  Sums  which  had  to  be  paid  because  they 
were  debts  of  honor,  for  which  he  pledged  his 
"parole  d'  honeur." 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  165 


" Forgive  me,  dear  uncle,"  lie  began  stumb- 
lingly,  with  these  reflections  in  mind. 

"I  went  to  see  the  Padre  at  the  Monastery  to 
tell  him  of  my  engagement  and  there — the  kind 
monk — the  harvest — the  new  wine — 

The  weatherbeaten  features  of  the  old  noble 
man  took  on  a  more  cheerful  expression  at  these 
words. 

'  *  Per  bacco ! "  he  began,  smacking  his  lips  and 
winking  slyly,  "it  must  have  been  the  new  Lacrima 
Christi  wine  I  sent  him  last  week,  which  has  made 
all  the  mischief.  Ho!  ho!  if  that's  the  case,  my 
dear  boy,  you  will  soon  taste  the  wine  that  will 
be  worth  the  tasting, ' '  he  added  with  a  broad  grin, 
smacking  his  lips  again  in  a  manner  attributable 
to  the  thorough  knowledge  of  an  old  wine  gour 
mand. 

"Yes,  my  boy,  the  same  Lacrima  Christi  will 
be  served  at  your  wedding  next  month. ' ' 

The  atmosphere  was  sultry,  but  he  shivered; 
and  if  a  mirror  could  have  been  held  before  his 
eyes  he  would  have  startled  back  alarmed  from 
the  gray  stony  face  so  unlike  his. 

1 '  Next  month  ? "  he  stammered. 


166  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


Until  now  he  tried  to  forget  the  whole  affair; 
her  image  was  so  utterly  driven  from  his  fickle 
heart  as  if  it  were  buried  twenty  feet  under  the 
ruins  of  Herculaneum. 

"Yes,  my  dear  Luigi,  I  shall  write  at  once  to 
Torro  Annunziata,  and  then  we  will  celebrate  a 
merry  wedding  and  invite  all — Why,  what's  the 
matter?"  he  asked  greatly  bewildered.  "What 
a  wry  face  you  are  making?" 

"It  is  the  pleasure — the  unlooked-for  sur 
prise, — "  stammered  Luigi  with  difficulty,  while 
his  pale  face  grew  a  shade  paler.  The  sweet  face 
of  Concetta,  with  the  bewitching  dimples  from 
which  little  mocking  Cupids  seemed  to  peep  out, 
challenging  him  like  a  siren  to  a  kiss ;  her  silvery 
laughter,  her  deep  blue  eyes  like  a  fairy's — all 
that  came  up  before  his  interior  vision  with  in 
toxicating  strength,  while  the  thought  that  in 
four  weeks  he  would  be  called  upon  to  plight  his 
troth  to  his  unlovely  cousin  made  him  shudder. 

Still  he  was  careful  not  to  drop  the  veil  that 
hid  his  real  thoughts  so  carefully  in  the  presence 
of  his  suspicious  uncle. 


CONFESSING    ALL    TO    THE    WONDER-WORKING    SAINT 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  167 

' '  Pleasure  ?  Ho !  ho !  my  dear  Luigi,  I  thought 
as  much.  Young  men,  young  men!  I  have  not 
forgotten  my  own  youth  yet — a  little  wild  it  was. ' ' 
He  chuckled  half  to  himself,  in  a  low  voice. 

1 1  Can  I — see  my  finance  now  ? ' '  Luigi  asked,  in 
a  half  stifled  voice. 

"Now?  So  early?  No,  dear  boy,  she  is  still 
among  her  pillows — dreaming  of  you!  Per  Dio! 
today,  though,  is  the  great  festival  of  Saint  Cecelia. 
Our  good  neighbors  from  Torre  del  Greco,  Portici, 
and  Torre  Annunziata  will  be  sure  to  gather  at 
Castellamare.  We  must  go  too.  You  shall  go 
with  Lucetta  in  my  victoria  with  the  four  fiery 
Arabs,  and  I  will  follow  the  happy  pair  in  a 
plainer  carriage,"  continued  the  old  baron  with 
nods  of  pleasure. 

It  was  at  the  same  festival,  at  the  chapel  of 
Saint  Cecelia,  that  he  hoped  this  very  evening  to 
meet  Concetta.  The  room  seemed  to  spin  round 
him  and  grow  dark.  "By  your  leave,  my  dear 
uncle,  I  must  go  at  once  to  the  club.  You  know, 
the  joyful  news — " 

"Of  your  engagement!" 


168  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


11  Haven't  you  mentioned  it  yet  to  your 
friends,"  he  cried,  a  picture  of  wild-eyed  amaze 
ment. 

*  *  To  be  sure  I  have,  but — the  early  date  of  the 
wedding — "  he  hastened  to  reply  in  a  dull  voice, 
wiping  the  cold  perspiration  from  his  brow. 

Catching  up  his  hat  and  cane,  he  took  a  hasty 
leave  from  his  Uncle,  with  the  promise  to  come 
back  punctually  at  four  o  'clock.  He  rushed  away 
tortured  by  this  dreaded  thought  in  mind ;  but  he 
had  to  see  the  small  army  of  creditors  and  keep 
them  at  bay  with  their  insolent  demands  for 
money,  which  were  becoming  intolerable  until 
after  the  most  dreaded  wedding. 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  169 


III. 


In  Castellamare  every  year  little  shrines  are 
erected  for  the  feast  of  St.  Cecelia  as  far  as  the 
Hotel  di  Stabia,  which  is  close  to  the  beautiful 
bay  of  Naples,  known  to  the  tourists  of  all  nations. 
In  these  shrines,  decorated  with  silken  draperies 
of  different  colors,  immense  wax  tapers  are  burn 
ing,  amid  which  roughly  painted  images  of  the 
wonder-working  saint  are  seen  shining  out  merci 
fully  in  the  brilliant  afternoon  sun. 

She  looked  down  with  mild  eyes,  upon  the  de 
vout  multitude,  that  hung  up  their  votive  offerings 
of  waxen  hands,  feet  and  hearts  with  tearful  eyes. 
Then  deep  in  prayer  they  besought  through  her 
the  blessed  Virgin's  help  for  their  various  ills 
and  woes;  kissing  devoutly  the  silken  drapery. 

Concetta  in  her  new  Sunday  dress  stood  there 
among  the  praying  throng.  After  praying  for 
a  while  she  moved  towards  the  Holy  shrine;  her 
eyes  moistened  when  she  fastened  with  trembling 
hands  a  little  waxen  heart  to  the  drapery  looking 
up  imploringly. 


170  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


She  saw  her  benignant  gaze,  and  knelt  down, 
confessing  all  to  the  wonder-working  saint,  and 
besought  her  to  heal  her  sick  heart.  She  hardly 
knew  what  oppressed  her  so,  and  what  made  her 
so  immensely  happy,  at  the  same  time.  To  her, 
woods  and  fields  were  indeed  vocal,  every  flitting 
bird  and  gurgling  brook,  every  passing  cloud  and 
whispering  breeze  brought  messages  of  love  from 
him.  To  the  mercy  of  God  and  the  love  of  Christ 
she  now  committed  her  love.  Today  in  the  bound 
less  reverence  and  religious  enthusiasm  she  felt 
the  need  of  his  presence  so  much  more. 

She  looked  right  and  left.  "  Something  must 
have  happened,"  she  murmured  to  herself,  great 
ly  disappointed,  as  it  was  almost  twilight,  and  no 
where  was  to  be  seen  the  tall  imposing  figure  of 
the  fascinating  man  so  dear  to  her.  The  sun  had 
gone  down  and  the  shadows  of  the  summer  even 
ing  commenced  to  gather  in  the  near  forest,  and 
climbed,  like  trooping  spirits,  up  the  rocky  moun 
tain  side. 

"He  was  always  so  punctual,"  her  voice  fal 
tered  suddenly,  and  it  grew  dark  before  her  eyes ; 
she  trembled  so  that  she  was  obliged  to  grasp 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  171 


one  of  the  large  candle-holders  near  her  in  order 
to  keep  her  from  falling  to  the  ground. 

An  elegant  carriage  with  four  horses  had  just 
dashed  by,  in  which  she  fancied  she  saw  her  lover 
with  a  richly  dressed  lady;  her  heart  contracted 
painfully.  Sadly,  with  downcast  eyes  praying 
continually,  she  took  her  way  back  to  the  village. 

Although  with  her  pure  and  simple  views  of 
life,  there  was  no  room  for  doubt  in  her  loving 
heart,  still  the  disquieting  thoughts  that  he  must 
be  rich  and  of  high  position,  she  could  not  keep 
altogether  away.  How  else  could  he  be  driving 
about  with  a  signora  apparently  of  nobility?  In 
voluntarily,  hot  tears  trickled  down  her  red  cheeks 
out  of  the  great  blue  eyes,  like  drops  of  rain  from 
a  patch  of  blue  sky. 

When  Luigi  came  to  the  village  on  the  follow 
ing  day  he  found  Concetta's  eyes  swollen  with 
weeping.  She  scarcely  dared  to  raise  them,  still 
heavy  with  tears,  to  his  face,  for  fear  he  should 
read  in  them  her  great  love  for  him. 

Luigi  Pavichino,  the  young  roue,  who  had  suc 
ceeded  quickly  enough  with  his  flattering  words 
in  making  her  forget  the  cause  of  her  secret  grief, 


172  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


now  laughed  lightly  with  a  merriment  that  had 
none  too  pleasant  a  sound,  as  if  he  were  well  used 
to  such  scenes  of  jealousy.  He  called  her  his 
dear  little  bride,  whom  he  loved  and  would  always 
love,  and  therewith  he  kissed  her  rosy  lips  pas 
sionately,  assuring  her  on  his  honor  that  he  had 
been  driving  in  no  carriage,  but  had  been  at  the 
monastery  with  the  Padre,  and  then  at  five  o  'clock 
had  come  to  Saint  Cecelia's  shrine,  without  seeing 
her. 

The  nearer  the  wedding  day  approached,  the 
oftener  Luigi  came  to  the  village,  assuring  her  al 
ways  of  the  unchangeableness  of  his  love. 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  173 


IV. 


The  old  cloister  of  Santa  Croce,  with  its  classic 
columns,  had  today  a  festive  appearance.  In  front 
of  the  garden,  sloping  down  at  the  mountain's 
side,  one  gets  a  glimpse  at  the  river  Sarno,  where 
the  Porta  di  Stabia  once  was  located,  and  the 
image  of  Minerva  in  terra  cotta — the  guardian 
Deity  of  Pompeii,  was  excavated  intact,  now  in  the 
Museum  at  Naples. 

The  old  chapel  was  gayly  decorated  with  rare 
flowers  and  tropical  plants  today,  and  the  finest 
adornments  of  the  ancient  cloister,  which  had 
slumbered  peacefully  and  been  forgotten  in  their 
cupboards  for  a  century,  were  brought  out  by  the 
serving  brothers,  and  cleansed  and  dusted  of  their 
cobwebs.  They  whispered  excitedly  putting  their 
heads  together,  for  the  marriage  of  a  high-born 
couple  was  a  rare  event  within  these  ancient  walls. 

The  fat  prior  smiled  in  the  triple  folds  of  his 
chin,  on  all  the  preparations,  with  quite  unusual 
benovelence.  His  little  steel-gray  eyes,  keen  and 
shrewd  in  their  glance,  fairly  sparkled  as  he 


174  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


thought  of  the  rich  fee  which  would  come  to  his 
cloister  on  such  an  occasion  from  a  generous  no 
ble  house. 

The  cook  of  the  monastery,  Brother  Salva- 
tore,  had  some  days  earlier  announced  the  festive 
event  to  Concetta's  father,  who  supplied  them 
with  fish  on  fast-days.  Concetta  was  quite  child 
ishly  delighted.  A  noble  wedding — the  handsome 
pair — the  rich  costumes — all  that  she  had  never 
seen  in  her  whole  life;  so  she  teased  her  father 
until  he  promised  to  take  her  to  the  wedding.  Her 
cheeks  glowed,  her  big  eyes  sparkled  with  pleas 
ure,  when  she  was  sitting  in  the  boat  in  her  Sun 
day  best  and  thinking  of  all  the  splendors  that 
were  going  to  be  exhibited  before  her. 

"If  I  understood  aright  the  look  Saint  Cecelia 
gave  me,  I  shall  soon  be  standing  there  too ! ' '  she 
whispered  to  herself  with  a  happy  smile,  while 
her  father  sat  opposite  her  and  plied  the  oars 
with  accustomed  hands.  "Oh,  the  happiness,  the 
happiness  of  belonging  to  him!"  she  went  on  in 
her  whispered  colloquy  with  herself,  both  hands 
clasped  before  her  face,  blushing  with  maidenly 
modesty. 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  175 


Gloomy  clouds  began  to  obscure  the  sun.  The 
magnificent  landscape  was  in  a  few  minutes 
wrapped,  as  it  were,  in  a  dark  veil  of  mist.  With 
shining  eyes  she  sat  in  the  boat  watching  the  sky, 
and  drinking  draughts  of  joy  with  which  mingled 
no  drop  of  sin  or  selfishness  in  its  crystal  waves  of 
purity;  for  she  had  grown  up  with  nature  as  ig 
norant  as  her  plants  at  home,  of  the  roar  and 
strife,  the  burning  hate  and  cunning  intrigue  of 
the  great  world  of  men  and  women. 

Frequent  puffs  of  wind  made  the  boat  now 
tremble  and  rock.  The  fear  of  an  approaching 
storm  had  laid  hold  of  the  animal  world  as  well; 
the  terrified  sea-gulls  flew  wildly  over  Concetta's 
head,  while  a  hideous  owl  in  the  neighboring  olive- 
grove  uttered  its  long-drawn,  harsh  notes,  which 
floated  out  over  the  river.  Concetta  saw  and 
heard  nothing.  Her  thoughts  were  with  the  man 
to  whom  she  had  given  herself  in  almost  superhu 
man  love,  whom  she  was  tempted  to  adore  like 
the  holy  image  of  Christ  before  which  she  knelt  in 
lowly  reverence,  imploring  His  blessing  on  her 
beloved. 


176  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


She  heard  the  sound  of  the  great  bell,  which 
was  only  rung  on  great  occasions;  the  nearer  she 
came,  the  more  joyfully  beat  her  heart.  A  gaily- 
decked  steamer  lay  already  at  the  landing  stage, 
so  that  they  had  to  go  a  little  further  in  order  to 
land.  They  had  no  sooner  found  a  place  where 
they  could  moor  their  boat  than  Concetta  with  im 
patient  haste  sprang  ashore.  They  then  climbed 
the  steep  hill  as  quickly  as  possible.  Great  rain 
drops  fell  again,  and  began  to  wet  Concetta 's  Sun 
day  dress. 

At  last  they  reached  the  cloister ;  but  they  had 
come  near  missing  the  ceremony.  The  solemn 
tones  of  the  organ  were  still  sounding  impressive 
ly  through  the  chapel.  Concetta,  with  shining 
eyes  and  wet  through  and  through,  was  standing 
near  the  chapel  door,  contemplating  the  undream 
ed-of  splendor  of  costumes  of  the  high-born  la 
dies.  The  bridal  pair,  surrounded  by  wedding 
guests  congratulating  them  heartily,  were  not  yet 
visible. 

"Now!  now!"  there  was  a  general  movement 
towards  the  outer  door  of  the  chapel. 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  177 

"Here  they  are  coming  now,"  whispered  Con- 
cetta  with  sparkling  eyes  full  of  expectation,  to 
her  father,  whose  head  was  bowed  reverently. 
Everybody  rushed  on  in  order  to  have  an  advan 
tageous  place  when  the  bridal  party  passed. 

Girls  all  in  white  came  first,  carrying  bouquets 
in  their  hands,  and  then  Luigi — pale  and  haggard 
— looking  like  a  bad  conscience  personified;  and 
on  his  arm  came  the  bride  all  in  white ! 

Concetta  saw  and  heard  no  more. 

The  tortured  image  of  Saint  Antoni  in  the  en 
trance  stared  ghostly  at  her,  dripping  drops  of 
blood.  The  decaying  walls  of  the  old  cloister  tot 
tered  about  her,  flames  sprang  up  towards  her 
from  yawning  abysses;  lightning  shot  across  her 
brain,  and  Beelzebub  with  his  infernal  band 
gnashed  his  teeth  at  her  in  a  laugh  of  malicious 
triumph. 

She  recoiled,  dazed  with  awe-struck  terror 
without  a  sound,  without  a  cry  she  moved  unob 
served  by  the  jostling  crowd  behind  Luigi.  Her 
blue  eyes  wide  open  never  turned  from  him  an  in 
stant,  as  if  struck  dumb  by  a  horror  too  great  for 
words  or  cry. 


178  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


A  little  keen  steel  blade  was  glistening  in  her 
hand,  and  the  next  instant  Luigi  was  stabbed 
through  his  treacherous  heart.  He  fell  senseless 
at  the  feet  of  his  newly  wedded  bride. 

The  frightened  wedding  guests,  fearing  a 
fainting  spell,  rushed  to  him,  but  the  blood  was 
now  flowing  freely  from  the  spot  where  she  had 
stabbed  him.  Nobody  saw  her  do  it.  He  was 
quickly  carried  into  the  monastery,  followed  by 
the  wedding  guests. 

Concetta  uttered  a  wild  cry,  and  rushed  weep 
ing  aloud  down  the  hill  towards  the  harbor.  It 
was  already  dark ;  the  wind  was  now  blowing  with 
the  vehemence  of  a  hurricane  over  the  foaming 
waters,  and  the  roar  of  thunder  shook  the  bath 
ing-houses  on  the  left  hand  side  of  the  harbor. 
Concetta,  with  a  sudden  headlong  rush,  breath 
less  and  horrified  had  reached  the  landing  pier. 
With  a  loud  cry  she  threw  herself  into  the  foam 
ing  waves  and  disappeared. 

At  the  same  moment  her  father  and  brother 
Salvatore,  running  after  her,  had  reached  the 
water. 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  179 


Poor  Niccolo,  trembling  in  every  limb,  was  at 
first  rendered  almost  helpless  with  horror;  but 
the  despair  which  began  to  hold  sway  over  him 
gave  him  now  superhuman  strength.  With  fran 
tic  haste  he  unfastened  his  little  boat,  and  rowed 
gesticulating  wildly  to  the  spot  where  he  had  seen 
her  sink.  He  loved  his  only  daughter  with  a  love 
that  was  akin  to  idolatry.  His  grey  hair  fluttered 
wildly  about  his  furrowed  and  heated  brow ;  great 
tears  trickled  down  his  dark  cheeks,  and  panting 
aloud  he  gazed  down  into  the  foaming  gloomy 
depths. 

* ' Santissima ! "  he  cried  aloud,  " Madonna! 
My  greatest  treasure — my  only  child !  Have  mer 
cy!" 

A  vivid  flash  of  lightning  illuminated  the 
stormy  surface  and  then — he  saw  the  red  dress 
floating  upon  the  waves.  "Cara  mia!"  he  cried, 
with  a  stammering  tongue,  wild  with  joy  when  he 
had  grasped  her  and  dragged  the  dear  form  into 
the  boat.  Calling  her  ceaselessly  by  endearing 
names,  he  pressed  her  to  his  heart  as  though  to 
bring  back  warmth  and  life  to  her  young  body, 
and  covered  her  dear  face  with  passionate  kisses, 


180  THE  GNOMES  OF  THE 


but  the  beautiful  head  fell  back  pale  and  lifeless ; 
the  great  blue  eyes  were  closed ;  she  was  dead. 

With  horror  in  his  w^de  strained  eyes,  and  pal 
lor  on  his  quivering  lips,  he  gazed  at  the  prostrate 
form  before  him,  the  lifeless  eyes  staring  now 
blankly  at  the  sky, — the  hue  of  life  and  exuberant 
health  still  glowing  on  the  full  cheeks  adorned  with 
every  grace  of  youth  and  beauty. 

"Morte — morte!"  stammered  the  father,  fran 
tic  with  grief,  tearing  his  grey  hair  despairingly. 
No  merry  glance,  no  roguish  smile  she  had  any 
more  for  him. 

"Figlia  mia  morte!"  he  cried,  beating  his 
breast  wildly.  "You  will  be  avenged,  none  of 
them  will  escape!"  And  holding  the  dead  Con- 
cetta  in  his  arms,  he  stood  there  erect  with  flaming 
eyes  and  panting  breath  swearing  the  oath  of 
the  deadly  feud  between  him  and  the  fam 
ily,  clenching  his  fists  threateningly.  The  mighty 
grief  tore  at  his  heart  strings  and  finally, 
brought  bitter  tears  to  his  burning  eyes,  great 
drops  streaming  down  over  his  grief-stricken 
face. 


SALINE  MOUNTAINS.  181 


On  the  pier,  Brother  Salvatore  had  sunk  upon 
his  knees  and  clasped  the  silver  crucifix,  which 
hung  at  his  side  by  a  cord.  Holding  it  out  towards 
the  boat,  he  raised  his  voice,  "  Benedizione ! "  he 
cried  aloud.  A  shiver  shook  his  emaciated  frame 
as  if  the  spectacle  which  he  beheld,  would  have 
burned  itself  indelibly  upon  his  memory. 

The  lightning  flashes  showed  from  afar  the  sil 
ver  cross  as  it  were — a  symbol  of  atonement  and 
— forgiveness. 


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